For What It's Worth
by CrazyIndigoChild
Summary: Munkustrap and Demeter find themselves unable to produce a heir and Deuteronomy is starting to become anxious. Since they're running out of options and time, Munkustrap turns to Mistoffelees for help. Mpreg and Slash. Additional warnings per chapter.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey, everyone!**

**Now, for the past year or so, my good friend DontBeAZombie has been really awesome in introducing me to the CATS fanbase (including the vast world of Slash), getting me into writing fanfiction, making fan videos, and is now teaching me to draw (Getting better!). She's also been really great in drawing pics for me when I re-adjusted my OTP from Tugger/Misto (Though I still lurve them :3) to Munku/Misto, even though she thinks Munku's boring and doesn't really care for them all too much ;)**

**Recently, she drew an AWESOME picture .com/messages/#/d3in5pj Go check it out :D It's a Munku/Misto Mpreg birth scene!**

**So she came up with this idea of a Munku/Misto mpreg fic and, since she cannot write on account of her computer being down, I have offered to write it for her! Aren't I the bestest friend in the world! *Yes you are!* Thanks :P **

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><p>"Please, Munkustrap, take a seat," Old Deuteronomy smiled from his wooden bureau in his hollow bookcase den. The silver tom nodded curtly and silently took a seat in one of the two red chaises in front of the bureau.<p>

The younger tom stared at him humbly and with as much respect as was due to the Jellicle leader. "Is there a problem, Father?" he asked curiously, prompting the elder cat to speak in the growing silence.

"Yes, actually. We have a bit of a misunderstanding."

"...What is it?" Munkustrap inquired, picking nervously at his nails; a habit he'd never been able to quit.

The graying tom opened his mouth to speak, the tabby could see an ever constant stream of drool leaking from the corner of his mouth. "As you may have noticed; you are at an age now where you should be preparing for, if not raising, kittens of your own. This was about the age I was arranged to marry your mother and fathered your brother." He licked his dry lips absently, idly flipping through pages that lay strewn about on his desk.

This would have been much less awkward if they had any true familial relationship whatsoever. An awkward silence fell between the two heavily.

"Well... As you already know, I have been mated to Demeter. It was an arrangement based on your counsel-"

"Yes," coughed the old tom wearily. "But it has been almost a year and yet she fails to have delivered me a grandchild. I thought that allowing you to form a union with a queen whom you loved would help bring about kittens without much influence on my part. Is she not living up to expectations?"

Munkustrap coughed nervously, rubbing the moisture off from the back of his neck. "No, she's- she's fine."

"But she is not catching?"

"No."

Deuteronomy gave a sympathetic nod. It seemed as though the recent deterioration in the health of the Jellicle tribe had affected fertility; they weren't the only couple having trouble conceiving.

"I hope you don't mind," the wise leader began evenly. "But I've taken up the liberty to search the tribe for compatible mates that would help you become a father. Of course, they would be genetically matched to ensure healthy and strong offspring to take on your responsibilities when you become... infirm." He bolted up quite strikingly from his large, leather armchair to invite his candidates into the chamber.

"But, Father!" Munkustrap exclaimed from his place in front of the desk. "I'm already mated. Besides, Demeter and I can surely supply you with the grandkittens you need in good time..."

"Yes," the aged cat mumbled agreeably, nodding enthusiastically. "But this is just to enhance your chances of producing offspring before you find yourself trying for kittens late into your expected retirement." The tabby had to agree with his logic, more queens would definitely increase his chances of producing kin. It would be rather odd if a middle-aged leader could not have an heir to pass down his kingdom., especially if he's looking into possible retirement by the time his knees finally gave way underneath him.

"...Father..." Munkustrap began again, this time a little less compliance in his voice.

"That's enough!" Deuteronomy barked harshly, softening his tone when all signs of opposition had vanished. "You and Demeter can still have kittens of your own; when the time comes, I shall be greeting them with open arms. But for now, I'd rather increase the chance of at least seeing one inheriting son from you before I die. Cat knows your brothers won't be giving us any potential leaders anytime soon," he finished with a wink.

Munkustrap paused for a moment. The only other heir to the throne would be Mistoffelees, Macavity's son. Although he cared for his nephew and was very fond of him, he'd rather have Tugger's illegitimate child lead the tribe before the magician: who knew how much he'd take after his father.

Before he found the nerve to argue further, the candidates were being brought in to stand by the mantle beside the desk and chairs. He immediately recognized them as Exotica and Tantomile. He looked them over briefly, "How have you come about these two?" he asked curiously. He found it strange that his father would suggest two socially detached queens to bear his kits.

Deuteronomy smiled at his mild interest. "Actually, I chose them because of their magical properties. It would be more efficient to thwart enemies such as the Hidden Paw with a mystical advantage." Munkustrap had to admit that was a very clever idea.

Almost as if they were merchandise for purchase, the two toms began inspecting their options. After learning that Exotica's mysterious mannerisms were only a result of her dabbling in the unreliable theory of voodoo, she was excused from the room. All that was left was the quite queen, Tantomile.

The tabby did like the younger queen; she was very stable, reliable in her predictions, and certainly possessed several qualities that he would have no issues if they were passed to his young.

Unfortunately, he could see the physical traits of the lovely queen were stacking against them. For one; she was a stray. She would already be predisposed to disease and illness that could harm both her and the kits even more than on her own. Aside from that, her hips were underdeveloped and far too narrow for her to safely carry even one lone kitten to term.

Another queen was thanked and excused from the impressive den. Munkustrap didn't mind all too much that the option of a mystical queen was no more, but Old Deuteronomy seemed extremely discouraged and disappointed. "Victoria," he murmured, on the verge of an epiphany. "We could ask Victoria."

"Victoria isn't mystical, only her brother has magic," Munkustrap explained apologetically.

"Perhaps she shares more with her brother than we can imagine." With a sigh, Munkustrap nodded and proceeded to follow his father to the white queen and her brother's den.

Oo oO  
>O<br>Oo oO

Mistoffelees stretched from his nest in his corner of the shared den. Sniffing the air, he could tell that Victoria had aired out the pipe earlier that morning. Smiling slightly, he lazily rolled out of bed to stagger slightly out of his curtained off section of their home.

"Good morning," Mistoffelees yawned pleasantly. Looking around, he could see that she had picked up the den upon her return from her courting with Plato.

"Good morning!" Victoria chimed cheerily. He couldn't help the smile that crept across his face.

"You have a good time? Did he finally plant a good one on ya?" he grinned. A hot blush burned through the thin white fur of her face. She shrugged off his curious stare.

"Well, no..." She absently picked up a pile of his books that he had left lying out the night before. "Jellylorum escorted us last night- you know how she can get- but he did give me these."

She crossed the light den gracefully to dote a vase of beautifully arranged flowers. "They're nice," he noted admiringly. Plato seemed to be quite the florist. She hummed in agreement and sighed gently, he rolled his eyes playfully at the cheesy display. He took a quick look around the den; she must have had an extremely great time with her beau if she bothered to clean the stove.

"Look, I'm sorry about leaving the den a mess last night." Mistoffelees began apologetically, digging up a nicer pitcher from the dishes drying in the sink. "I meant to clean it but I was just so exhausted..."

She nodded as she transfered the flowers. "I remember; I was the one who carried you to bed," she winked, smiling coyly.

"Oh..." He was interrupted suddenly by the sound of loud knocking on the den's entrance. They both looked up to see Munkustrap and Old Deuteronomy standing patiently, offering them kind smiles. Mistoffelees, being the tom of the house, met the other two and invited them inside.

He invited them in to sit down on the sofas while Victoria served snacks and drinks to the tribe's royalty. Mistoffelees took a seat on the sofa across from them, patiently waiting for them to be settled comfortably before inquiring about their unusual visit.

"So, if you mind my asking; what honour brings you here, sirs?" Mistoffelees asked politely. Deuteronomy made the first move to speak. He stole a quick glance at the white queen and motioned her to sit down. She complied and took a seat next to her slightly suspicious brother.

"You may not know this, but Munkustrap and Demeter have been having troubles conceiving. So, we have been reaching out to the tribe for help-"

Victoria's face lit up almost instantly. "Mistoffelees could help you, Munk!" she enthused. "He has done incredible things no one's ever seen before, I'm sure he could help you one way or another."

Mistoffelees blushed apologetically to their visitors before clamping a warning hand on his sister's knee. "Don't interrupt, it's rude."

"Well, actually, Mistoffelees," Old Deuteronomy began warmly, trying to put his proposition in a sense where Mistoffelees would be sympathetic and cooperative. "We came here to ask your sister if she'd be interested in-"

"Never mind, father. The conditions aren't right." Munkustrap shook his head solemnly. It wasn't that she didn't come off as mystically gifted; it was the too narrow hips, the lack of true fat and muscle on her body, and her age that eliminated her as a candidate.

The tux knew almost immediately what Deuteronomy was intending to ask; he wanted to ask his permission for Victoria to carry a litter for them. He frowned momentarily when he realized that his sister was just deemed not up to par for Munkustrap's kin. He cast an angry glare at the slightly conceited tabby.

His teeth clenched for but a brief moment. "Why isn't she good enough for you, Munkustrap?"

The tabby stared slightly dumbfounded at the magician. He recognized that he was caught inspecting the tux's littermate and felt somewhat ashamed. "I-It's not that she isn't good enough, Mistoffelees. It's just, as I said, the conditions aren't right; I wouldn't want her to be endangered." It was then that the tiny tom realized that he did not want to even discuss the topic of his sister carrying any kittens, let alone having to bed the tom. He shuddered slightly and brushed away the mental images. Ew.

Deuteronomy, meanwhile, was busy comparing the white queen and her slightly contrasting brother. Unlike her, Mistoffelees had the broad hips Munkustrap probably took note of initially. He certainly had a healthy bodyweight to support a litter, and not to mention his muscles were stronger than those of most of the queens in the tribe due to biological development. He couldn't help but notice that the tom's height wasn't the greatest, but he did show many personality traits that would be welcomed by his son for the kitten's development.

While the two were bickering fruitlessly over Victoria's inadequacies, the old tom turned his attention to the white queen. "Victoria, what kind of incredible feats is your brother capable of?"

Making sure that she was actually being spoken to, she blinked blankly for a minute before realizing what was being said. "Oh! Well, sir, I've seen his magic do incredible things! Once, he pulled several kittens right out of a hat! Not too long ago, I saw him make a copy of a mouse! I think that he could easily help out Munkustrap and Demeter, most definitely."

"Victoria, stop," the tuxed tom chastised. He hated being the center of attention, especially when he wasn't intentionally seeking it out.

"So you have a skill for dealing with living creatures?" Deuteronomy asked the black and white tom, intrigued by the unfolding of events.

"Well, I haven't really ever had any problems with it before..."

"Do you think you would be able to apply your skills to this situation?" Munkustrap glanced at the old tom from the corner of his eye; what, exactly, was he getting at?

Mistoffelees considered him a moment, carefully planning his response. "Well, I can't really help Demeter personally, it's far too complex."

"That wasn't what I had in mind."

"I'm sorry?" Mistoffelees became severely perplexed. Despite his natural insight, he could not fully comprehend where the graying tom was headed.

Deuteronomy slowly cracked a smile, it was slightly unnerving for the tux and his equally confused sister. "Would you be interested in carrying Munkustrap's kittens?-

Munkustrap immediately choked on the air he was breathing. "WHAT!"

Mistoffelees' white face bleached to an unhealthy shade before the tops of his cheeks burst in bright red. His voice was even but careful nonetheless.

"Victoria, can you please leave us a moment?" The white queen, who also seemed to lose a bit of colour in her white face, nodded vacantly before raising herself to her feet and walking out the den. A quick glance at the Jellicle Protector showed a vacant stare at the coffee table in front of him, staring down into his complementary tea.

The magician shifted awkwardly in his seat. "Umm..." He looked between the two as the cogs in his brain worked furiously. He had never thought of being able to deliver kittens, it never crossed his mind in all honesty. He had to admit that the idea was certainly one to consider, but he couldn't see his magic pulling though with such a long-term and uncertain task. "To be honest, Deuteronomy, I don't think it will work. It's a very... unusual request that I can honestly say would be extremely difficult- if not impossible- for one of my caliber."

The leader's face fell slightly, disappointment poised on the deeply wrinkled bags under his eyes. "Would there be any chance that you would be willing to give it a try?"

The young tom looked to the silver tabby, who continued to sit quietly next to his business dealing father, for help. No help came to his side so he found himself facing the potentially intimidating leader alone. "Sir, you need to understand; although I may be able to... carry the kittens, the true danger lies in how I'd be able to deliver them. Unfortunately, my body isn't built for this type of work."

Finally, Munkustrap was roused from his state of concentration. He opened his mouth to speak several times before actually making eye contact with the true intent of voicing his mind. "Mistoffelees," he mumbled, trying to gather courage. Needless to say, he felt as awkward as Deuteronomy was bold. "I know that this isn't something you're interested in pursuing, and I appreciate that you'd rather not try; but we really need your help. There aren't any queens who are fertile and as you can see we're desperate for an heir. If I cannot produce a son within a few years' time, I may never be able to properly pass on my responsibilities as Jellicle Protector and leader for future generations; this isn't entirely a learn-on-the-job experience."

Meeting his gaze, Mistoffelees could see that this was not the tabby's first choice and it certainly wasn't his ideal circumstance. A silent exchange left them both feeling even more awkward and insecure, obviously he felt ashamed and stupid for asking. He was somewhat comforted when a glimpse of Munkustrap, his friend and comrade, shone through the veil of embarrassment that was now put up between the two. He could see the desperation and slight panic in his teal irises. It would be somewhat unfair of him to so blatantly deny him this favor, especially when Munkustrap worked so hard to keep him and the junkyard safe. _Still..._

He drew in a deep breath, feeling the two intent gazes burn at him through his dark fur. "... I'll think about it," he nodded hesitantly. The two other toms nodded; Deuteronomy pleased with the progress, and Munkustrap looking even more worried now that they were that much closer to possibly becoming parents.

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><p>Chapter 2 is being written as we speak! I can't wait to get it posted up here! Wooooooooooooo!<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

I'm back! Luckily this story is moving along fairly smoothly, I'm already a chapter ahead so there won't be an excruciatingly long wait. ALSO, I have exams now, so that means that Tuesday is my first day of FREEDOM -cheers and dance- can't wait!

cjfreeman: Hehe, awwwww yeah! I can't wait to see what you think. Don't worry, Demeter may not get much of a say in_ that _aspect of the "process" but she says a LOT later on ;) Humph, Munkus just doesn't appreciate what I do for him! I'm giving him the chance of a lifetime! He needs to appreciate!

Okk, as I said I would; this chapter gets its own little_ Warnings _so here you go:

**_Warning: Slash, descriptive sex, angst (one would assume).  
>I think that's it...<em>**

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><p>The last item came down to a draw between his healing crystals and his mother's old shawl. He didn't want to risk bringing them for fear of losing them, but he dearly wanted all of his comfort items with him if he happened to actually go through with this. The sounds of his sister entering the den distracted him momentarily.<p>

"You still here?" he heard from behind the drape separating his "room" from hers and the rest of the den.

Mistoffelees swallowed a hard lump in his throat. "Yeah, I'm finishing my packing," he replied over his shoulder. It was a matter of seconds before he felt her enter his portion of the den to wrap her arms around his midsection.

"Have you spoken to Tugger about this yet?" she asked curiously.

He had. He decided it was only fair to let his best friend know that he was being drafted to carry and birth his nieces and nephews, and his nieces and nephews twice removed. He found himself wondering whether he could get out of this ordeal due to complications as a result of incest...

Mistoffelees took a small breath at the memory. "I have."

"Aaaaaand...?" she drawled expectantly, not with intent of being a bother to her brother, but to somehow break the tension so he didn't risk clamming up.

"And he thinks I'm kidding, of course!" he exclaimed as though it was the most obvious thing in the whole world. "How would it sound if Tugger came up to you and said that he was going to carry my kittens?"

Victoria pondered this for a moment; it would have been quite strange. She could imagine herself passing it off as a joke as well.

"I guess it makes sense," she shrugged. "But then again he is your best friend, he should know you wouldn't fool around with something so... serious."

"Yeah, well, that's Tugger." Listening closely to his last few words, Mistoffelees sounded quite old and tired. She hated hearing his weakness; it reminded her all too much of the innocent, carefree, starry-eyed tom he would soon be forced to abandon.

"Why are you going through with this?" her voice was muffled by his fur as she buried her face in his back.

Her brother just sighed and watched the clock on his bedside table tick away silently. He'd have to be at Munkustrap and Demeter's place in a couple of hours for dinner.

"Have you noticed Jemima?" he asked in response. "She's almost a queen now and there are no kittens to follow after her. The elders are dying off and there are no kits to replace them."

Victoria frowned against the fur on his shoulder blade. "So you're doing this so that the Junkyard has a couple of little cats to watch over in a couple of years? Is it really worth it?"

Mistoffelees looked down at the items in his hand, choosing the shawl over the healing stones. He did his best to balance packing, cuddling, and comforting his sister, as well as himself.

"No. But it's worth being able to stay here with you and my friends," he murmured through the clump in his throat. Zipping the bag shut, he began stroking the arms hugging his waist. He wondered what it would feel like to have kittens in there; he figured having a whole cat growing inside of him wouldn't feel so great.

"They're going to kick you out of the tribe?" she gasped airily, her grip tightening around him at the thought of life in the junkyard without her best friend.

Mistoffelees shook his head softly, his face drooping slightly. "Not if I try to give Deuteronomy what he wants. They've given me two months to conceive; if my magic just isn't working then I can come back here without argument."

"How would they know if you're not trying?"

"I can't say exactly, but I'm sure they'd know." He sighed, prying himself from his sister's grasp to hug her tightly. He took this opportunity to sneak a small peck on her cheek and bury his face in the crook of her neck; he had a feeling that this would be the most affection he'd share for a long time.

"I'm so scared, Vicky. I don't know if I can go through with this," he murmured sorrowfully. He had never been away from his sister since they were born, this was surely a new experience for them: kittens and separation simultaneously.

Victoria softly held the back of his neck supportively with a caring hand. Rubbing his back, she hushed him softly whispering, "It'll be okay" every few seconds in hopes of calming him before it was time for him to go situate himself in his new home.

"You'll get through this; I'll be cheering you on the whole time," she promised. She gingerly reached over to the bed and grabbed the shawl from his bag to bundle it between them comfortingly, the smell of their mother ever present in the dark green fabric.

Oo oO  
>O<br>Oo oO

"This is it," Demeter announced brightly, opening the door to his new room. It was a good sized room- much bigger and more private than his curtained corner in the pipe- with a fair sized window-like structure and a big, pillowy bed that could fit five of him (given he wasn't too big). The bed was bare, save for a flat pillow and fresh sheets, which he liked because he'd taken it upon himself to bring his own bedding.

The golden queen took his two bags and set them on the floor next to the door. "The bathroom is over there," she pointed to a tiny, hallway-like structure that served to define a closet space and a small en-suite. He gaped at the impressive set-up; royalty indeed got the "royal" treatment... and then some. This was one of 3 dens in the junkyard where indoor plumbing had been installed.

"...You do know how to use it, don't you?" She seemed a bit worried, but she also seemed a little condescending. He wasn't stupid.

"I'm sure I can figure it out," he winked jokingly. This backfired and he found himself on the receiving end of a judgmental stare, causing him to chuckle nervously and turn his gaze back to the bed.

Demeter eventually let up and offered a polite smile. "Well, I'm going to go finish cooking dinner. It'll be ready in about an hour so you'll have some time to unpack and freshen up." Before he could offer her thanks, she had nearly dashed from the room without another word or glance.

He took her advice and began unpacking. Deciding he could deal with his kick knacks later, he began with situating his bedding. Tossing the pillow to the ground, he replaced it with a large, rolled up blanket and carefully spread out his duvets over the large bed. It was extremely tempting to just jump in and settle for a snooze, but he didn't want to be rude and miss supper.

Soon enough, suppertime had come around. It was somewhat awkward considering the circumstances that brought them together. But however awkward and restricted the conversation was, the food made up for it tenfold with the delicious flavours and filling sauces.

After dinner, he excused himself to continue unpacking his things while Demeter began the dishes and Munkustrap read an excerpt from the paper upon her recommendation.

He soon realized that he hardly had enough shelf space to hold his things where he could properly see them. He figured he'd go find things to furnish his room with in the morning; hopefully there was a nice table he could dig up in the new piles.

The air shifted around him at the presence of a visitor. He turned around to find Munkustrap peering in curiously, his gaze landing on the bed nervously.

Neither of them said anything for the first few minutes of Munkustrap's entry to his room. Mistoffelees couldn't possibly look the older cat in the eye; he couldn't help but notice the look of anger, hatred, and maybe even a little disgust.

Munkustrap finally sighed, a weak and woeful sound. "Let's get this over with."

Mistoffelees looked at his bag worriedly; it was only his first night here and he had hardly finished unpacking. He wanted to protest but he remembered their little "deal". He didn't want to be exiled for something he'd apparently agreed to. He nodded but didn't move; he wasn't entirely sure what to do.

He found himself eventually sitting on the bed, stomach knotting furiously to the point where he feared the rat dinner would rise up and he'd hack on the Jellicle Protector. He sat stock-still, waiting for an order or some sort of instruction.

"On your stomach," Munkustrap said bitterly. The tux frowned at the tone but reluctantly did as he was told. He heard the soft click of the bedroom door behind him before his companion crawled onto the bed to settle over his thighs. He grabbed his mother's shawl for comfort when he felt his legs being pushed apart.

He heard the deep intake of breath from the bigger tom as he tried to gather his confidence. He could feel light poking on his rear before being roughly entered. Pain immediately shot up his spine and radiated through his entire pelvis and lower back. It only seemed to intensify the further in the tabby ventured.

His claws dug into the blankets and shawl for relief but it did little to soothe the searing pain. His lip began to bleed as his fangs punctured the skin from trying to bite back a cry. He could feel his hips rise instinctively; trying to escape the pain and penetration. Mistoffelees could feel Munkustrap's protests to the unwanted movements as his lower back was pressed down to the mattress in an attempt to pin his small frame to the bed.

Mistoffelees trembled under the weight of the tabby's body as he became completely engulfed in the tuxedo's body. Mistoffelees buried his face in his comforting cloth as he tried to peel his mind away from the heavy panting above him.

No time was wasted as Munkustrap began rocking his hips, sliding unpleasantly in and out of his companion's aching entrance. The small tom made a weak attempt to protest, but his cries of pain were muffled by the thick blankets and pillows he had sought refuge in. Based on the sudden rigidness that clammed up Munkustrap's movements, his groan of pain was mistaken for a moan of pleasure.

The pain began to slowly fade, however, as Munkustrap began to glide his hips into the small, lithe body more gently. He figured the tabby was keeping himself from traveling deeper so as to not hit the sweet spot he assumed he'd discovered.

Munkustrap's length grew harder as he raced to climax so that he could end the embarrassing affair. Small, frustrated grunts escaped his lips as he moved, pushing deeper. He could feel the pressure building as the need for release grew stronger the closer he drew to his peak; small amounts of pre-cum began to ooze out of his aching member, lubricating the tight entrance he now forcefully pushed into.

It was impossible for the tux to hold back a heaving sob as his entrance became flooded with a hot, thick liquid that seemed to leak out and run down his thighs. The loud moaning above him signaled a blissfully prolonged release, as it seemed to last hours longer than it should in the tux's mind. Throwing his head back, Munkustrap dug his claws into the muscles on Mistoffelees' hips, yanking the slender body back up his length as the remaining ejaculate left his throbbing member, making sure as much remained inside the tom in case this plan actually provided results.

Munkustrap pulled his hips from the now loose and worn hole his body had been seethed in moments before. He swung his legs over the bed, breathing heavily as he tried to regain his energy. He turned back awkwardly to see Mistoffelees curled up into fetal position, his eyes closed tightly and the green shawl pressed to his nose.

He reluctantly stood up with a huff, figuring he might as well clean up before returning to his mate. He trudged off towards the bathroom, grabbing a small hand towel from the linen closet and closing the door behind him.

Mistoffelees was left alone on the bed, shaking violently, the fabric around him being soaked by the tears, sweat, and essence that leaked from his body. No one ever told him that mating would hurt this much- granted, he hadn't really been told about it aside from Tugger's glorified recounts of his many endeavours. Even then, they all seemed to be enjoyable, his partners were always found giggling and gossiping about it for days afterwards.

It wasn't long before the tux felt his eyelids droop. He would have remained awake to see to it that Munkustrap left, but the tears were like glue and he found himself falling into a dark ignorance. Suddenly, something warm and wet landed of Mistoffelees' face with an equally wet 'slap'.

"You should clean yourself up," Munkustrap advised somewhat awkwardly. You can't really clean that out, the tux thought bitingly. But, nevertheless, he hated being dirty, so he painfully sat up and began wiping himself off. The initial grime came off relatively easy but left an oily residue along with a pang of shame.

He only had to endure ten minutes of listening to the tabby clean himself up in his en-suite bathroom before he emerged, tossed the towel in the hamper by the door, and left the room. Alone with his thoughts wasn't a state Mistoffelees wanted to be in right now.

Giving a sigh, he pulled the covers up over his head to wrap them securely around his humming body, still hot with friction and embarrassment. Cocooned in his safety nest, he slowly began to drift off to sleep, the sounds of his first mating still hanging in the air just over his blankets.

Oo oO  
>O<br>Oo oO

"Good morning, Mistoffelees," Demeter smiled curtly, placing a plate of grey, unidentifiable mush in front of him.

He looked up at her, confused, but was met with a slightly intimidating stare that seemed to hold as much bitterness as her mush lacked colour. He put two and two together, figuring that Demeter knew about last night and was anything but happy to serve him in her home at the moment. Little did she know, he wasn't much in the mood to be dealing with her at the moment either. He had a splitting headache, an extremely sore backside, and was tired beyond himself.

"What is this?" he asked curiously, trying to sound more interested and less disgusted.

She smiled wickedly. "This? Oh, this is just a concoction Jenny gave me; it's supposed to be good for the kits," she explained simply, pushing the plate towards him encouragingly. Mistoffelees stared at it wide-eyed; surely he just saw it move.

"I think you must be mistaken, Demeter," he began apologetically, pushing the plate back gently. "I'm not pregnant. Not yet, at least."

She chuckled cheerily... a little too happy and preppy for the usual Demeter. "You don't know that, Mistoffelees. Besides, you need to prepare your body for the babies so that they can grow healthy and strong." To him it looked as though she was trying to poison him with some kind of witches' potion.

"I'm sure I can manage," he smiled before excusing himself from the table to return for a few more hours of rest, sighing internally as he wondered what she'd do to him if he actually became pregnant.

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><p><strong>So! What do you think will happen? Will Misto get preggers? Will Munku finally learn to sex him up PROPERLY! Maybe Misto will just be all "I'll take my walk of shame" and leave xD I would -shrug- it's not worth the effort ;)<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**Alright, I'm baaaaaaaaack... And I brought another chapter with me :D **

**I'm glad that you all liked the sex scene in the last chapter :D It unfortunately wasn't mine, it was written by DontBeAzombie since I'm still trying to get over my awkwardness about writing sex ;P But you should read her stories :D She may not update often but she is a story idea genius! This story is actually her idea :P With development and plot from yours truly -bows-**

_**cjfreeman:** One would think... but I guess Munku doesn't really realize the damage he's doing, as opposed to servicing Misto by getting out of his-er- hair faster -shrug- Give the guy a break, he's new at the whole schtick-another-dude scene ;) Maybe a warning would have been worse? "Don't tense up-" "Well it's hard not to when I know it's coming!"_

_Oh, of course things will-might-perhaps get better :D It HAS to get worse! It would be boring if this story was all sunshine, rainbows, and happiness :P Thanks for the awesome review, I laughed along with the evil laugh at the end ;) My dad was watching me from the other end of the couch x) He wanted to read what made me laugh but stealthy me was able to dodge it (I told him it was a period joke xD) Men._

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><p>"Please, Munk, not tonight."<p>

The tabby blinked from the foot of his bed; a month of regular, nightly visits and this was the first time he had heard any true opposition from the young tom. He found himself a bit concerned, and a little put off, seeing as his schedule was now being disrupted. Believe it or not, he had somewhat gotten over his resistance to being with Mistoffelees... Somewhat.

His head cocked slightly to the side. "You feeling alright?" he asked a little nervously.

"Fine," replied the tux in deadpan. "Just tired is all."

The tabby nodded understandingly, still standing awkwardly at the side of his bed. "I see. Well, goodnight then." With that, he was gone.

He waited for the sounds of the tabby's retreat to his own room before he made a move to get up. Crossing the room to listen through the door, he could hear them talking about his fatigue with a slight sense of excitement and energy; this only depressed him further.

Making sure that they wouldn't be returning, he ran across the room to his window. He gently hopped up onto the sill of the open window and gracefully jumped down to the ground a few feet below. It took him a moment to figure which direction his old home was before he disappeared into the shadows of the junk piles.

"What are you doing?" a calm, glassy voice called out to him from an ominous shadow to his right. He couldn't immediately recognize the voice for he so rarely heard it, but the scent had revealed his intruder to be Tantomile.

Mistoffelees froze in his tracks; could he trust her not to go running to Munkustrap and Demeter? "I... I'm going for a stroll," he lied unconvincingly. But, unfortunately, you cannot deceive someone who already knows everything. Despite her knowledge of his fib, she nodded anyways.

"Why aren't you happy? Are you not honoured to bear the royal kittens?" Tantomile asked flatly, though curiously still searching to pinpoint his true reasoning for leaving the den.

"I'm not," the tux confirmed. "Well, I'm honoured, that's for sure. But I'm not happy."

"What you need to do is concentrate," she advised whimsically, as though she had given him the meaning of life with one simple word. He opened his mouth to ask for an elaboration, but she was gone, lost in the pitch of the junk piles concealing her to begin with. He carried on with his mission.

Although it was surely easier to go unnoticed in the dark of the night, it surely wasn't easy finding his way blind from his new housing. It took him a record 13 minutes to make his way over to the pipe by the tire.

He peeked over the rim of the stage cautiously; Alonzo would be on duty tonight, so he still had to be careful so as to not get caught. Seeing as the coast was clear, he slinked across the white pool of moonlight that covered the tire and stealthily slid into the hole in the top of the pipe.

He was immediately overcome with a sense of comfort and joy when he caught a glimpse of the soft, sky-blue light coming from the end of the tunnel. The light was mainly used as a nightlight so that they had enough vision to find their way out all right if they had to rush to the washroom and leave the den in the dark.

He brushed passed the curtain that separated the actual, dome-like den from the pipe entrance- surely no one believed that they'd both fit in a pipe together.

The den was just as he left it the month before, only this time his curtain had been taken down and a small table cluttered with things occupied the empty space where his bed used to be. Although he didn't care for his space being misused, it was better than having a bit chunk of space going unused, and she seemed to be taking care of what remained of his treasures.

He slowly crept over to her bed, making sure to wake her slightly before crawling under the blankets next to her so she wouldn't get scared. The blankets were radiating her scent, which resembled his in many ways, and it seemed to only comfort him more when he could snuggle in to the fluffy blankets and feel the life breathing next to him.

"...Misto?" Victoria mumbled as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes, patting her hand up his arm to his face to better identify him in the dark.

Mistoffelees swallowed hard. "Yeah, Vick, it's me."

"What on earth are you doing here? What time is it?"

Immediately, he lunged forward and wrapped his arms around her lying form desperately, the tears already burning at his eyes. Normally, crying would have been something he would find humiliating. Now, it seemed appropriate as he shared his first tender contact with anyone in over a month.

"I can't do this!" he cried into her shoulder, squeezing her close. "They hate me there, you can see it! It's horrible over there, I can't stand another day with those cats!" he sobbed.

Still sleepy, the white queen did the best she could to soothe his cries until he fell asleep. Not much else was shared between them and soon they found themselves falling asleep in each other's arms, holding on tightly to each other for fear of waking up without the other there.

Soft knocking woke the dozing queen from her reverie. Untangling herself from Mistoffelees' hold, she slid out of bed to cross the den quietly. The question of who would be up and about this late and the worry associated hadn't really crossed her mind all too much; Mistoffelees was there to protect her in a heartbeat if anything were to go wrong.

Pulling back the sleek, red curtain, she met the tired expression of the Jellicle Protector.

"M-Munkustrap! Sir," she greeted, stunned at his unannounced appearance on her doorstep.

The tabby searched the moderate-sized den quizzically before meeting the queen's eyes evenly. "Is Mistoffelees here?"

"He's sleeping." She couldn't help notice the slight shift as he tried to pick out the tux's figure in her mass of blankets and pillows, so she invited him inside. The tabby immediately went to the bed where Mistoffelees slept. He easily spotted the moisture from his tears and the swell of his eyelids, he felt a small glimpse of regret for him; he was losing so much.

What's a night? "If you want, you can send him over in the morning. Before daybreak preferably so Demeter doesn't skin him," he offered, still looking down at the young tom.

"That would be great," she smiled. Munkustrap nodded approvingly before turning to leave.

"N-naw, I'm comin'," Mistoffelees suddenly slurred from his place on the bed. A quick glance between the other two came and went but he still hadn't made any move to get up.

Munkustrap walked over to the side of the bed. "You getting up?" he asked patiently to the snoozing cat, seemingly startling him. He watched as he drowsily sat up in the blankets and dragged his gaze around the room. He nodded.

Figuring he wouldn't be getting up on his own anytime soon, Munkustrap leaned down to ease him to his feet by lifting him from under his arms.

They ended up leaving the den with Munkustrap carrying Mistoffelees bridal-style to their shared den. Along the way, the smaller of the two insisted that he could walk himself, several times, before falling asleep against the other's shoulder.

_Oo oO  
>O<br>Oo oO _

"Mistoffelees, we're going to be late!" Demeter hollered from the dining room area. She heard a soft groan from his room before hearing the bathroom door slam a third time that morning. "I assure you that pigeon was fine- I cooked it properly!" she exclaimed to her silent mate. He looked up at her agreeably from his place at the table.

"I'm fine," he murmured, shrugging. He knew it wasn't the pigeon for Mistoffelees was never served the same foods as they were anymore, but he didn't want to argue.

The gold queen huffed irritably. "Well, he'd better get over this bug if he's hoping to house any proper kits. Surely it can't be healthy for them if he can't hold any food."

"It's your damned cooking that's doing this to me!" Mistoffelees shrieked from his doorway as he closed and locked his bedroom behind him. Demeter let out a low groan in response.

"Well, whatever it is, it's surely gone now," she snarled, glaring daggers, though Mistoffelees couldn't care less.

Munkustrap looked between the two, looking quite sheepish for the Jellicle Protector. "Have fun," he bid hesitantly.

"A blast," Mistoffelees enthused dumbly, his expression falling blank within moments. Demeter rolled her eyes, severely annoyed at this point, and stormed out of the den, Mistoffelees trailing behind her.

_Oo oO  
>O<br>Oo oO _

"Ooooh, yes, I see..." Jenny nodded as she pressed the sides of Mistoffelees' abdomen, feeling for abnormalities or obstructions. Demeter went on and on about his symptoms and how it surely wasn't her cooking because she had cooked pigeon for her and Munkustrap numerous times before. The Gumbie cat 'mhmm'ed in agreement and assured her she was an excellent cook because, after all, she had taught her to prepare meals herself.

All the while, Mistoffelees slept lightly on the inspection table in the infirmary, not listening to either enough to trace the paths of their conversation from food to the weather to darning. Besides, it's not as if he could offer Jenny any more information than Demeter supplied; she knew everything and anything that went on with him be it the loss of an eyelash or a bout of midnight vomiting.

He frowned as a wave of nausea radiated up his esophagus. "Jenny," he croaked. "Please stop. I don't want to have to show you the god-awful food Demeter's been sliding to me under the door."

The older queen chuckled softly before kicking a wastebasket closer to him and carrying on. She kept her hands on him for another few minutes before patting his stomach gently.

"Well, everything seems alright in there. Mistoffelees, I'm going to have to ask a favour of you..."

_This is probably the most degrading thing I've ever had to do_, Mistoffelees thought bitterly as he re-entered the old queen's den, a small stick soaked with his urine in hand. It certainly was one of the most interesting, he had to admit. Surely they've found a better way to tell if one was being poisoned than this.

"Really!" Demeter shrieked beside him minutes later. His hands immediately shot up to block out the overtly queen-like sounds coming from the now clapping she-cat.

Mistoffelees stared angrily at her when the loud, high giggling ceased to be contained. Jenny placed a comforting paw on his knee. "Misto, dear, you're going to have kittens," she smiled, picking up the pregnancy test off the floor where Demeter had tossed it in her excitement.

He simply stared at her, his face a void of emotion or comprehension. This worried Jenny a little.

Demeter, on the other hand, had dashed from the den to find her mate and share the good news. It was once they were left alone that he allowed any emotion to slip through his expressionless brave-face. He sighed heavily, dropping his head in his hands. Why did his magic have to work this time? Surely it was out to get him for something he'd done in a past life.

_Oo oO  
>O<br>Oo oO_

"...Yeah. OKAY!" Tugger spluttered at the news of his best friend expecting kittens. "This is a really sad joke, Mistoffelees. C'mon, you can do better than that."

Mistoffelees found his face turning a deep red, his tail flicking furiously. "It's not a joke, Tugger," he muttered through clenched teeth. This, for some reason, made the coon laugh harder.

"And I'm not the sexiest beast to ever roam the junkyard," he winked, still giggling to himself. "And I take it Munkustrap is the father?" He wiped a stray tear as he tried to calm himself and his outburst of ungodly laughter.

"He is-"

Tugger snorted as he began laughing again. "He can't even get Demeter pregnant-" he sighed with a high voice. That was when Mistoffelees had enough.

"For fuck's sake, Tugger, this isn't a goddamned joke!" he roared, enraged.

Tugger gave one last little chuckle, gauging his friend's expression for any sign of a crack-up from the tux. He lost his smile when his friend didn't let up. "...Seriously?"

Mistoffelees sighed exasperatedly. "Yes, Tugger."

Something passed the coon's eyes and it seemed to sober him up a bit. "B-but you're a tom," he stated feebly.

"Yes... a magical tom..."

The flirt's expression seemed to turn angry, almost managing to replicate his expression, though he was obviously not nearly as angry as the tux for most of his anger was played up by his tendency to be a bit melodramatic. "That's my brother, Mistoffelees!"

"Oh, really? I had no clue. I guess I should just go back to him and return his-"

"Misto, he's your uncle!" he shrieked, raking his fingers through his headfur in his hysteria.

Mistoffelees moaned miserably, beating his temples with his palms. "I know!"

"That makes me an uncle... and a great uncle! Munkus is a father... and a great uncle..."

"Tug, you're not helping."

The coon, now riled up and in full devastation mode, continued his rant. "I can't be a 'great' anything yet! I can be just 'great' but not this..." he threw his face into his hands miserably. "I'm getting old."

Mistoffelees stalked up to the roaming coon to give him a cold smack in the face. "Shut up! This isn't about you, Tugger!"

Surprisingly, the dramatics were turned off and they were immediately engulfed in silence.

"I...I have to go tell Victoria," Mistoffelees choked before jogging off, leaving the coon to fend for himself in the wake of his news.

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><p><strong> Ooooooooooooooh! Guess who's preggers? Misto is! Xo I can't wait to put up the next chapter, it's a whopper! (in my personal opinion) so stay tuned for school is out and the writing machine is in full till! ONWARD HO!<strong>

**You crazy fools know the drill! ;D**


	4. Chapter 4

Woooooooo! Chapter 4! I honestly forgot that I had this one in my inbox ready for posting.

cjfreeman: I hope so too :( It's bad enough he has to sleep with the guy and carry his kits! The least Munku could do would be to cut him some slack :/  
>Hehehe, there will be much more Tugger :3 Just wait a chapter- oh yeah... Next chapter!... I believe.<p>

This chapter features LAMAZE CLASSES! Yes, indeed! Some fun, some awkward, and some cravings! WOOT!

Enjoy :)

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><p>"...And why are you here?"<p>

Mistoffelees snapped out of his daydreaming to look up at the overly made-up queen blankly, nodding to the small bulge that was his stomach vaguely. A confused look accented the plastered smile before she turned to Demeter standing next to him.

She opened her mouth to speak but could find no words other than, "He's here for Lamaze classes."

"I'm pregnant," Mistoffelees interjected; might as well get this out of the way before they started questioning his bulging body.

The teacher, a young, brown queen with a squirrel-esque complexion, laughed delightfully at the two. "I'm sorry, but I think you've got it all wrong, hun. The queen is the pregnant one. And we do like to refer to the couple as being pregnant together, so it would be best if you two came to the class as a unit rather than having your mate take the course alone," she finished, smiling at Demeter.

The gold queen did not look impressed in any sense whatsoever, the none-too-stealthy glance the squirrel-queen stole to inspect her abdomen didn't help matters all the more.

"I'm not confused-" Demeter began harshly but was distracted when Mistoffelees stepped up to stare ominously into the taller queen's face, his own mere inches from hers.

"Look," he began flatly. "I'm nauseous, I'm tired, I'm hungry, and I'm sure as hell not in the mood to put up with your cotton-headed logic." Demeter watched on in surprised shock as his eyes narrowed into somewhat intimidating slits, and his voice grew deeper and more relaxed. "So, if you want to pay your bills this month, I suggest that you stop asking questions and teach me how to breathe like an Olympic runner."

The victimized queen stared at him blankly for a moment before regaining her sugar-coated smile. "It's nice to have you here in our class, Mistoffelees," she beamed.

Mistoffelees returned the plastered smile with an equally fake grin of his own. "Thank you, it's nice being here."

Demeter looked between them suspiciously; she hadn't remembered any names being exchanged. The queen's gait seemed to only add to her notion that she had been manipulated as she walked cheerily but almost robotically to the others.

"That was somewhat disturbing..." she noted as they both continued to watch her make her rounds.

"Rather her not be tailing us for the next few months," Mistoffelees shrugged before taking his seat in one of the plastic chairs.

Demeter sat awkwardly beside him on a lime green replica of Mistoffelees' grey chair. She offhandedly wondered how easy it would have been for Mistoffelees to manipulate her and Munkustrap...

"Easier than you think," Mistoffelees murmured quietly to her before turning his attention to a group of queens talking loudly by a snack table.

Soon, the group had been gathered and ushered to sit down on the floor with yoga mats and exercise balls. All, that is, except Mistoffelees and Demeter who remained on the outside of the circle slouched in their cheap patio furniture.

They both silently took note of how the queens seemed to sit with their toms protectively cuddling them or absently massaging tender muscles as they listened to the instructor's introduction to the course. Mistoffelees frowned at the queens, thinking of how weak and pathetic they were acting. They were all in the same trimester as he was and he seemed fine enough to sit on the floor without someone trying to spoon him or molest his deceptively 'non-showing' stomach.

Demeter, on the other hand, thought the couples were cute and couldn't help but imagine her and Munkustrap sitting in the circle with them, a litter of their own on the way.

"Would you like to take a seat on a mat and join us?" Mistoffelees raised his hand to wave away the queen, but his rising paw was grabbed firmly by the golden queen next to him and she began to pull him off his folding chair to sit on the mat in front of them. After minutes of struggle and quiet bickering, Mistoffelees ended up losing the battle.

Soon enough, the group was led in an incredibly boring exercise of rolling from side to side on the floor and humming lowly between breaths. Forced to participate by the hostile queen behind him, Mistoffelees begrudgingly lay flat on his back and began humming the Mario Brothers tune.

"Listen to the instructor!" hissed Demeter angrily, nudging his side roughly with her foot.

Mistoffelees stopped humming to look up at her innocently, using his kittenish wide, blue eyes to his advantage. "I am. I'm aimlessly rolling on the floor while pointlessly exercising muscles that are completely irrelevant to childbirth."

"You're wasting money," Demeter retorted pointedly. "And how do you know if it's irrelevant?

"That's not my problem that you decided to put me in this dumb class so early in," he shrugged. "And I may be naive, but I'm far from ignorant."

"I don't care if you're blind, deaf, and dumb, you're going to follow the class!"

Mistoffelees sat up now, ready to retaliate; not willing to lose twice in the same day. "Why do you even care? This is supposed to be for me, not the kittens."

"It so that you know how to birth the kittens as painlessly as possible... However you're planning on birthing them..." Her head cocked to the side in thought; she had never really thought about how he was going to have the kittens exactly. She just assumed that after 9 months they'd be there and Mistoffelees would return to his lowly life and this whole ordeal would be forgotten. She was beginning to doubt that theory greatly as she stared at the small swell under his fur, a sign that she knew he was mentally denying.

"Simple. I'm going to magic them out. It shan't be too hard."

"Well, for your sake, I hope it works. But if it doesn't, then you'll be thanking me greatly for dragging you here."

Mistoffelees scoffed with an indignant eye-roll. "I won't be thanking you for much; I'm hardly learning anything at any rate."

Oo oO  
>O<br>Oo oO

"I tell you, Victoria, it's the most boring thing in the world!" Mistoffelees exclaimed as he flopped down onto her bed tiredly. The nausea had come back and he felt worn out, as if he'd been dancing all day.

"Oh, come now, I'm sure it was fine." She idly dabbed small little flecks of glue on a cracked teapot she was repairing for Jellylorum as she spoke; her voice was distant but her mind was sharp and concentrated on the small treasure. "You just need to give it another try is all."

Mistoffelees groaned from his position on the bed, rubbing his stinging eyes until they began to water. "The class is boring and Demeter is an absolute nightmare."

"Why don't you tell Munk- Oh shit!" The teapot shifted slightly under her brush before it came clattering down to the table she'd been working on.

"And what will he do? He'll just tell me to suck it up and send me back there with her again."

Shifting around, Mistoffelees found his way under the soft, cozy blankets. Snuggling himself deeper into the nest, he settled himself for a much needed nap. He figured he'd have a few hours before supper so he could spare some time for sleep.

The white queen began again at reassembling the powder jigsaw; she swore there were more pieces now than before. "Maybe he could send someone else with you next time. When's the next session?"

"...Friday," Mistoffelees mumbled under the blankets, his mind growing dark and heavy with the enticing opportunity of sleep. Her ears perked excitedly but her mind was, again, completely focused on the task at hand.

"I can do Friday," she smiled.

Oo oO  
>O<br>Oo oO

"...And breathe in..." Mistoffelees sat on the exercise ball next to Victoria and a rather... close couple, who had decided to share their ball during the breathing techniques. Not really paying all too much attention to the teacher at front, Mistoffelees eyed them, puzzled.

The couple, like those on the mats, was sitting with the queen settled between the tom's legs. This didn't bother him so much as annoy him to think that they could be so... affectionate, in public. Where no one really wanted to see them. He watched, perturbed, as the two began to engulf themselves a little too much in the moment.

With each intake of breath, the tom would slide his hands up the queen's front, taking her bosoms in each hand to lift into the breath. On exhale, the hands would slide down to her nether regions and caress her thighs. The queen's expression, one of sheer ecstasy -what seemed to be a borderline orgasm- disturbed him deeply. Was this appropriate for a Lamaze class?

He looked around the circle to find everyone had their eyes closed and were following along, even Victoria was oblivious to the goings on beside them as she got caught up in the "therapeutic cleansing".

"Vicky, switch places with me," he whispered harshly into her ear so as to not draw attention to himself.

She opened her eyes briefly so as to motivate him into breathing with her, lifting her hand with the intake, and lowering it on the exhale. A small whimper of pleasure emanated from the queen beside him. He became a little more frantic.

"Please, Victoria, trade places with me!" She sighed lightly before turning her full attention to the anxious tom.

"Keep up with the class, Misto," she encouraged softly. Her gaze caught the two on his other side and she ended up doing a rather comical double take.

They watched together in death stillness, their eyes wide with discomfort and disturbed shock. The couple now rocked together, their movements making Mistoffelees wonder if the yoga ball would burst below them. It surely would teach them a lesson.

Figuring he'd had enough, Mistoffelees slid off the side of his seat and began for the door. Victoria quickly cottoned on and chased after him, leaving the class with half an hour to spare.

The two ended up skipping out to stroll down the main street, peeking into every store in hopes of finding some hidden bargain or treasure to add to their collections. Mistoffelees stopped suddenly in front of a chocolatier shop to peer inside hungrily. Victoria watched his reflection in the window of the store, assuming he had seen something out of place rather than eyeing up the chocolaty treats on display; Mistoffelees wasn't really a tom of sweets.

"I am craving chocolate so much right now, you have no idea," he murmured, almost to himself.

Victoria looked inside at the gourmet delicacies, all of which were out of their budget of a combined $20. "But you hate chocolate..."

Mistoffelees groaned miserably, whipping around to continue down the sidewalk. "I know! It's so disgustingly delicious! I want it but I get sick to my stomach just thinking of it."

"Well," the snowy queen began, mentally managing their budget. "We could always go to the Tomb and get some rice pudding." It wasn't really chocolate, but it was the closest thing to deserts Mistoffelees would eat without gagging. At least he liked it.

The tux heaved a great sigh. "It's no use, Vicky. I'm not allowed to eat anything unhealthy anyways. Demeter'll sniff me out the minute I walk into the junkyard and tear me a new one."

Oo oO  
>O<br>Oo oO

"Apparently, it's the best book around," Demeter nodded approvingly as she flipped through a rather large book entitled, "What to Expect when you're Expecting". Mistoffelees reached out to see it, but Demeter quickly avoided his grasp and continued to delve in the world of expecting mothers and pictures of growing kitten fetuses.

Munkustrap was out patrolling the junkyard, so it was just him against the golden queen. Mistoffelees, not really interested in the book itself but in what it would influence Demeter to do to him, lay back down on the bed.

When she had given him the book, he found that the queen had been looking at the nutrition and diet section. His heart grew heavy at the sight of all his least favourite foods- and some he had never even seen before! Beans, beets, tofu, and spinach were the foods that caught his eye. His nose crinkled in disgust; all horrible foods he'd be forced to eat as long as these kittens were growing inside of him... what if they never came out?

That probably meant that his cravings for chocolate and pork rinds would go unsatisfied. He looked up from the book to find Demeter sniffing at his still unorganized room. He wondered if he'd still be able to get a shelf of sorts installed. He'd probably have to get Munk to do it for him since there was no way Demeter would let him do anything strenuous; he couldn't even think critically without her worrying about stressing out the kittens.

"Please clear off my things." She whipped around almost guiltily before turning back to the potions and concoctions on the ground in front of her.

"What are these?" she asked thoughtfully.

Mistoffelees sighed internally, really not in the mood to be giving the grand tour of his projects and works. "They're mine. Don't touch them."

"I don't know if these would be safe for the kittens; one could leak and make them sick!" She picked up a flask with a rather Gothic-looking dragon with flames on it, eyeing it up suspiciously. Truth be told, he had stolen that flask from an odd looking tom whose bag kept leaking tiny treasures of rather unique interest. The potion inside was for sore throats. There were actually very few dangerous potions in his room; everything he could be reprimanded for was left with Victoria, he knew he could trust her to take care of them.

The tux sighed again. "Don't worry, I have a reign on them, I won't let them get into any trouble," he smiled coyly as he patted his stomach. Demeter gave him a rather dangerous glare before shrugging him off and stalking to the washroom.

In all honesty, she had never expected Mistoffelees to be tidy and organized, though now he seemed to be a tom who kept an organized disaster; a mess only he'd be able to navigate. She stepped away from his array of mysterious items and, deciding that she no longer held any interest towards the tux tom, headed towards the door. Demeter curtly reminded him that lunch would be in half an hour and was gone before another word was said.

Mistoffelees flipped through the pages boredly; he really didn't need a dumb book to tell him what he can and can't eat! He was the magical Mr. Mistoffelees, he could do -and eat- whatever he wanted! But... There was the problem of Demeter monitoring everything and anything entering, exiting, or growing inside his body.

He concentrated really hard on conjuring up a cookie; nothing appeared. The rush in his head signaled he was nearing exhaustion now, although he had literally done nothing. That wasn't good.

A smile crept across his face at an idea: he could just use one of his many resources to get him what he wanted. He may not be able to use much magic at the moment, but at least he could manipulate whatever need be. Perhaps after lunch he'd pay a special friend a visit.


	5. Chapter 5

Hey hey! I'm baaaaack! And I brought another chapter with me :D

.: Well! I'm glad to hear it ;D Anything in a good way is...well... good! Though I don't think I can cut Misto any "slack". You see, it's a dude... who's pregnant. Enough said ;P

Hope you guys like!

Thanks goes to Delphicoracle-Cat for Beta-ing my story :D I really appreciate it!

* * *

><p>Mistoffelees gave a big, goofy grin; pleased with Tugger's hidden abilities. There was no way that Demeter could accuse him of feigning such a professional piece of material. Flipping through the book, his plan began to look more and more ingenious by the moment.<p>

"Thanks so much, Tug," he grinned to the older tom. The foods page looked delicious with its pictures of decadent rodent dishes and various snacks, including pork rhines and chocolate of various styles. Perfect. "You know, you should look into starting a design business or something. I'm sure tons of cats would pay good money for this stuff."

Tugger laughed at that. If he took the time time to pursue such silly things, he wouldn't have time to spend with his numerous queen-admirers and fans. "Who am I going to sell to? Preggo toms like you?"

"Hey, it's a growing crowd. You have the opportunity to be cool before everyone else."

A sad smile flashed over the coon's golden features, resting with a soft gaze and looking rather sympathetic. Mistoffelees grew uncomfortable, knowing exactly what was on his mind by his uncharacteristically distracted demeanour.

His breath stopped and his muscles tensed stiffly when Tugger suddenly reached out to rest his hand on the fair sized bump of his stomach. It seemed as though he had been gaining more and more weight faster now that he was going into the second trimester. Everything became awkwardly still.

He took in a very uncomfortable and cautious breath. "Tugger..."

"I'm so sorry you had to do this." The coon didn't look back up at him, he just concentrated hard on the tiny tux's stomach, the only outward proof of his nieces and nephews' existence. "You're so young yourself... You shouldn't be doing this. It's not your responsibility..."

"It's an honour to bear the royal kits," Mistoffelees murmured spitefully, doing his best not to disgrace Tugger's royal bloodline. The hand that still rested flat against his stomach became hot and unwelcome as he thought of its connection to the tom who forced him into this. Fortunately, Tugger wasn't his father. He shrugged off the other tom's hand and took a step back to keep his distance.

"Still, it's not your place to be risking your life for the sake of my brother's ego."

The small tom sighed tiredly. "That's not why, Tugger, and you know it's not.

"It's not fair!" the Tugger snapped impatiently, his face growing a reddish tint as his temper began to rise. "You're already Deuteronomy's grandson, you should automatically be replacing Munkustrap if he can't tom up and have his own kits!"

It was hard for the tux to take Tugger seriously when he was in this ever-present state of kittenish rebellion. "You know as well as I do that I can't lead the tribe. I have a hard enough time keeping myself out of trouble, let alone other cats."

"So? That's how Munkustrap started out. He was the most awkward kit but he was taught how to lead when Macavity went rampant. Now he's leading his own anarchistic lifestyle and dragging young toms in to have his firstborn-"

"Don't do this to me, Tug." The tux could feel the tears begin to collect and build up impressively at the edges of his eyes. He despised how much of a queen these odd mood swings made him.

Tugger stopped to wait for his retaliation; his opposing argument; a reason why Munkustrap was not in the wrong and he was just seeing things oddly through his seemingly flawed logic. No argument was made against him. "I don't want to talk about this. Not with you. Not right now."

"...Okay," the coon whispered hoarsely, the hurt of his friend's abuse apparent in the way he watched the little tom place a protective hand over his belly. He was brought back to the present when the phony magazine was waved in the tux's one hand.

"So... Thanks again. I hope to pay you back-"

"Don't worry about it, Mist," he shrugged apathetically. Of all things he needed to worry about, the repayment of his time and energy on a fake little booklet was not his top priority.

He watched solemnly as the young tom took a few steps back before turning to trudge off towards his shared den.

Oo o oO

o

Oo o oO

"Where'd you find this?" Munkustrap asked from his place on the couch. In front of him stood the bulging tom as he awaited their inspection on the new book.

Mistoffelees hesitated a moment. "I-er... I found it at the lamaze class."

Demeter, sitting next to the silver tabby, daintily half closed the pamphlet to inspect the cover. "I've never seen this one before..."

"I picked it up when I went with Victoria, I just found it as I was going through my things."

Munkustrap flipped through the pages with mild curiosity, clearly only showing interest for the sake of supporting his mate's infatuation with the coming kittens. The tux eyed him suspiciously as a large grin broke out across his face, stretching ear to ear.

"In order to monitor the kitten's health as the pregnancy progresses, it is wise to regularly check the mother's temperature... For a more accurate reading, a rectal thermometer is recommended." The two paused a moment to give them both a chance to refrain themselves from bursting out laughing. Demter, at one point, had to muffle the unfeminine snorts by burying her face into the throw pillow sitting between them. "...Written by Dr. Ben Dover," the tabby chuckled to himself, trying to contain his amusement as much as possible.

It hadn't occurred to Mistoffelees to actually read over Tugger's work until now: of course he would do something like this. His intentions were in the right place, but of course he didn't want to make things too easy or boring. Now how was he going to get out of this one? Well, at least he could say he tried.

"Well," Munkustrap began, a quiver in his voice. "I guess Demeter'll have to start taking your temperature, then."

Demeter immediately stopped laughing, giving her mate a good hard smack on the arm. "Like Hell I will!"

"But it'll ensure their health, Deme. We don't want deformed children now, do we?"

Now it was Mistoffelees's turn to speak out. "I'm sure they'll be fine, Munk. I got tabs on them." For emphasis, he now rubbed the growing swell of his stomach, long overcoming his denial. "Besides, I'm the exception, not the rule."

It was quite humorous how true that was. Since the early stages of their development, he had been keeping track on their kin's health. He wasn't sure how many there were, but he did know that there was a healthy little tom he had been making sure to give top priority to. Afterall, he didn't want Munkustrap coming back to him for more kittens.

Pressing a soft hand to his belly, he could feel the faint ebb and presence of the little tom, held close to the skin below Mistoffelees' flat hand. The vitality he sensed from the tiny entity was the only proof that this whole experience wasn't in vain; he would give Munkustrap and Demeter what they wanted, and he would safely deliver a kit into the world to protect the tribe and future generations of Jellicles. He smiled: maybe they would perform a song about the tux during the ball. This was definitely worth praise.

"I don't know, Mistoffelees, this booklet says that we need to check your temperature. Dr. Dover said so..." The sly, knowing smirk on the tabby's face mocked him endlessly; he knew.

"Screw Dr. Dover!" Mistoffelees yelled, throwing his hands up in the air and stalking out of the room. It was only once he was out of the room that Munkustrap allowed himself the pleasure of laughing outright.

Oo o oO

o

Oo o oO

"Wait... So why am I here?" Tugger asked as he swaggered behind the slow-moving tux. It was a warm spring day and the Tugger had better plans for the day than going to a boring class.

Mistoffelees panted and wheezed slightly, his largely distended stomach weighing him down. He was rounding the middle of his pregnancy now; halfway through the second trimester, and was going bigger by the minute! Sadly, he wasn't even close to his full size and he was already near crippled. Jenny agreed that it was most likely due to the fact that Mistoffelees is, well, a male. His body isn't prepared for pregnancy.

Finding himself on the verge of passing out, the tux wobbled to a stop and plopped himself down onto a set of concrete steps. "Because," he groaned, rubbing his knees. "Because no one else can go with me."

"Aww, did the novelty wear off?" The coon teased, reaching down to playfully tap the younger tom's belly. Mistoffelees hissed in return; the belly was a major sore spot.

"No. They're fighting about something kitten related," he huffed, rubbing his thighs. "Not really something I involve myself in; too much hassle in arguing with Demeter."

"I know what you mean..." Tugger looked to his watch; they only had 15 minutes to make it up the hill. "So, am I going to have to piggy-back you or what? We don't have time to wait for your kits to get up off your ass." This received a playful glare.

"I would end up breaking your back the minute I'd hop on," Mistoffelees laughed, a rather silvery sound that Tugger had been missing for far too long. Despite his seemingly mature mannerisms, Mistoffelees was extremely mischevious and could often be found breaking every rule placed against his rebellious nature, with Tugger by his side of course. Now he seemed more relaxed and down trodden, the burden of fatherhood weighing him down prematurely.

The coon took it upon himself to grab the tom by the still prominent scruff, and began carrying him up the hill under his arm. True to his word, Mistoffelees was a fair deal heavier than he was a year ago, but he could still manage to pick him up.

They made it to the meeting with 5 minutes to spare.

As usual, the squirrel instructor came his way to stick her twitchy nose in his business.

"Mistoffelees, have you not yet decided on a birthing partner?" she asked with slight worry, noticing the presence of Tugger and not Demeter or Victoria. He could see the stern scruitiny on her face.

The tux looked between her and the coon, who had busied himself with the light snacks on the side table. Looking back at the curious queen, her scorn and distaste was not at all hidden as she watched Tugger take a bite of a baby carrot before tossing the second half on the pile. "He's not the father," he assured. "And I haven't yet. I'm not sure I'll be needing one at any rate; I can take care of myself."

"Oh, you say that now..." she almost lectured, though being quickly quieted by a fairly sour glare from her young student. The brown queen clamped her mouth shut and turned to talk to another couple who had been waiting for her to leave the tom's vicinity for the past few minutes. No other couple in the class ever really liked him... It was probably Demeter's foreboding presence that scared them away.

Tugger laugehd loudly from his place at the table behind him. Looking back, Mistoffelees could see Tugger shaking his head disbelievingly as he sauntered over, his mouth now full of cheese. "Can you believe this chick? Says she's gonna go all natural. No meds!" he scoffed, cheese bits flying out of his mouth.

"Yeah, some of them think it's 'good' for the kittens and all that garbage."

Tugger laughed outright at the outrageous idea. "It's no better for the kits as much as it is for me. I bet you'll be taking the high road and doing the right thing for the kits?..."

"Hell, yes! I'm drugging them up so bad they'll be tasting colours long before their eyes open."

"Good boy," Tugger smiled, patting the tux on the head. The tux grinned at the tease but was quickly distracted when the group was called to circle.

The two sat down on their separate mats, waiting for the warm-up exercises to begin. Tugger took this time to take a long look around the group: these preggo queens were really cramping his style. They all began humming and breathing ritualistically.

Trying to fit in, the Tugger closed his eyes tightly and began humming along, the breathing making him woozy. Looking at Mistoffelees, he found his friend picking at a scab on his knee with concentrated interest. Odd: Mistoffelees wasn't usually one for blood, puss, or scabby tissue.

"Aren't you breathing?" he whispered loudly, nudging the tux in the side.

Mistoffelees reluctantly tore his gaze from the oozing blemish on his knee to give the Maine Coon a rather disparaging look. "If I weren't breathing, I'd be dead."

"Is there a problem?" Like kittens caught with their hands in the cookie jar, they both turned guiltily to the leader of the session.

As if on queue, Tugger leaned back lazily and cast her a charming smile. "No, everything's fine," he smiled politely. "I was just telling my friend here how nice this group is; very welcoming and respectful, especially with his..." he lowered his voice as if to shield Mistoffelees and his delicate pride, "condition."

_That'won't work_, Mistoffelees thought indignantly, but was proven wrong when the squirrel queen swooned slightly and dismissed them with only a warning.

In all honesty, Mistoffelees truly believed that this session would be the worst of them all. Not only was the Tugger a major flirt and was expected to have the entire male portion of the class hate him by the end of the class, but he also expected the Coon to make a scene on how boring and unentertaining this was.

He was proven wrong when, as a joke, the Tugger ran up behind him during the recess and emptied a small cup of water at his feet before screaming, "Misto, are you alright! Has your water broken?" in an overdone, dramatic gasp. The teacher, and at least three other queens, whipped around and dashed over to them.

A quick look at Tugger and the game was on. The tux clutched his stomach with as much overdone drama as his friend, and set to fainting impressively back into his arms with an airy, "Oh, my!"

"Misto? Mistoffelees, NOOOOOOOOO!" Tugger cried as he clutched his comrade's 'dead' body in his arms. He set the tux down to run for help, but he so very accidentally slipped in the 'amniotic fluid' and landed on the laminate flooring with a spectacular thud.

Reaching a dripping hand out to a rather large queen, he began gasping and wheezing. "Please, help us! Save my friend. Save the kits..." and with that he gasped his final breath before dying in the middle of the circle of mats.

This ended their session about an hour early. They were sent home to never return to the circle; saying the tux was too much trouble than he was worth. Tugger, after his second attempt at sensual persuasion failed, resorted to accusing the queen of being sexist towards his dear friend, who so valiantly agreed to carry his brother's kits for the survival of their whithering tribe.

"Well," Mistoffeleed sighed after the door had been rudely slammed in their faces. "I guess we head home?"

The Coon thought for a moment. "... Right after I get my snack on! How's about a chicken club?"

It could be said that the afternoon wasn't a complete waste as he'd predicted.


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey! How's it going? Long time no see, eh? Well I have a special surprise for you guys in the next chapter :D But I'm considering making you guys beg for it! -Mwahahahahahaaa- Hint: It's pretty angsty ;)**

**So yeah. Sad new: I kind of lost my muse :( Writer's block sucks! And it's the worst yet. Hopefully I can pull myself out of this soon enough. But, luckily for you, I had a huge splurge of enthusiasm and wrote out the next chapter! *Yayz* **

**Any-whoover, I hope you guys enjoy this extra long chapter *Is digging for forgiveness for taking so long***

* * *

><p>Mistoffelees lay motionless on the nest of sheets on top his bed, eyes wandering about the dark room as sleep averted him. His gaze darted over the end of the bed when a light turned on in the hall, pooling softly under the door.<p>

Running his hands gently over the swell of his stomach, Mistoffelees watched as the door crept open, shifting onto his elbow as tall figure slowly, indecisively crept into the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

"Mistoffelees?" he whispered softly, keeping his distance for a few moments; as if deciding whether to turn back.

Mistoffelees watched quietly as the silver tom made his way to the bed, feeling the bed press down beside him as the tabby sat. "...Yes, Munkustrap?"

"How are you feeling?" Munkustrap leaned down to the black toms ears as he spoke in a hushed voice.

The question had caught the tuxed tom off guard; he wasn't really used to having the tabby visit him for conversation and health updates...

Silence fell heavily between them as the tux was lost in contemplation, almost forgetting to respond. "I'm fine," he said with slight anxiety when Munkustrap stood up from the bed to leave. It seemed that, tonight, he did not want the tabby to leave.

Munkustrap turned his head with a hot blush, a thankful smile crept onto his lips. Something, thank the Everlasting Cat, Mistoffelees would not notice in the dark.

The silver tabby knelt back down onto the bed, crawling slowly until he was face to face with Mistoffelees. Bits of the tom's white face flashed in the moonlight; the gaped lips that trembled slightly, and the cautious, tempting gaze. Using one hand for support, Munkustrap ran his other over the smaller tom's body, trailing his palm from Mistoffelees' hip up the mound to the top of his growing stomach.

The young tux tried to maneuver his body, awkwardly trying to turn onto his stomach the way Munkustrap seemed to favor. As he curled over onto his side he could feel protesting hands pushing him back to the bed, all the while gently teasing and caressing the soft-furred body.

Mistoffelees closed his eyes against the feeling as the tabby ran his fingers though the thin fur on his stomach, messaging the stretched skin as he let himself be pampered. Curiously, the silver tom leaned down to the plump, round belly; pressing his ear to the skin as he intently listened. A rough tongue stroked the black fur, causing the younger tom to purr at the gentle kisses.

After one last nuzzle to Mistoffelees stomach, Munkustrap climbed back up the bed to come face to face with lightning blue eyes that watched him quizzically. Gently pressing his knee between Mistoffelees' agape legs, he nudged them apart as he lifted the tux's heavy hips off the bed, supporting him comfortably as he positioned himself.

The younger tom's breath hitched at the almost uncomfortable pressure around his entrance, bracing himself for the sudden thrust that never came. At the other's hesitation, Mistoffelees grew irritably anxious and took it upon himself to push down onto the imposing length, taking him in with some ease.

Munkustrap was surprised by the unexpected change in attitude: never before had he been so eager or willing to engage with him. Determined not to let the younger tom do all the work in his condition, the tabby slowly began rocking his hips. Mistoffelees threw his head back onto the pillow, delving into the new pleasure that had his body shaking with spasms.

Heat from the small body worked fast in building Munkustrap's arousal. Something about the panting, soft-moaning tom below made this experience meaningful, and he didn't want to feel like he'd disappoint. Sweat dripped down the tabby's neck as he searched for the tux's sweet spot.

Mistoffelees let out a loud pleasured moan, gripping the pillow beneath his head with one hand, and digging holes into his quilt with the other. Seemingly encouraged by the deep moans, the tabby rocked his hips faster, though still mindful of the kittens tumbling inside the little tux.

Taking his gentle hand off the plump belly, Munkustrap ran his hands gently over the bump to trail down to the tux's standing length, the delicate touch causing Mistoffelees to squirm in pleasure.

Munkustrap could feel his climax approaching fast; the small tux's whimpers and moans made his stomach turn and sent him even closer to the edge.

Mistoffelees panting suddenly hitched, his head snapping back into the pillow once again as he felt his body shudder. Letting out a strained cry, he reached his orgasm; dirtying the sweat-sticky fur on the silver tom's stomach and chest. He lay shivering in the aftermath of ecstasy while the tabby above continued rocking.

The clinching muscles around his member following Mistoffelees' orgasm dragged him over the edge shortly after. Hissing lowly, he could feel his release surge into the ripening tom below. Feeling his body tremble, his arms going weak, Munkustrap forced himself to roll off onto the bed, laying with starry eyes beside a panting Mistoffelees.

Munkustrap wiped his hand of any remaining fluids before reaching over the large stomach, laying his head on the sweat drenched black fur. Mistoffelees rolled his head to watch the silver tom as he felt the kittens begin to stir; kicking at their father's cheek and bumping against his gentle stroking hands. Feeling tired and weighed him down, Mistoffelees' eyes fluttered before closing completely, all the while running his hands in trough Munkustrap's head fur: waiting for sleep to consume him.

Oo oO

O

Oo oO

"I was thinking that I wanted to start fixing up the nursery," Demeter announced one evening while the three were lounging in their den. Mistoffelees, who watched the fire anxiously with his hand rested lightly on his stomach, looked at her cautiously from the corner of his eye.

Munkustrap looked over his paper momentarily to glance between the two. "Do you two have anything in mind?" Mistoffelees finally turned his face from the fire, catching the tabby's eye for a moment before looking to the golden queen.

"Oh, well we haven't really discussed it yet. I was thinking of making the nursery my own personal project."

Mistoffelees eyed her suspiciously; he began to wonder where Demeter was going with this topic. Was she trying to convince Munkustrap to kick him out so she could turn his room into a nursery? He didn't really care if that was the case; he'd much rather be sitting at home in his proper den.

Munkustrap shifted, flipping the page and settling himself in a new column before speaking. "Wouldn't it be better if you both worked on it together? It might be easier to plan a nursery for an unpredictable litter with more than one mind at hand." He paused for a moment to recollect his thoughts when a headline caught his attention for a brief second. "And you never know... it might be fu-"

The golden queen huffed irritably as she dropped her hand heavily on her lap. "Why are you insisting on forcing Mistoffelees to participate more in the kits' preparation if he shows no interest in them? It's not as if he's planning on sticking around after they're born."

"Why would you assume that?" Mistoffelees spoke up from his place near the fire, a comfy pile of blankets just off to the side of the mantle. "I never said I wasn't interested." Rubbing his belly gently, he began to feel a bit sad at the thought of not being involved with his kits. He had never really thought of being a parent- much less have a litter of his own- but now that they were here, and he could feel and watch them grow inside of him, he was warming up to the idea. One kicked his hand gently, making him smile at the comforting contact with his kin.

It was Demeter's turn to retaliate, her expression tensing up making her look even more menacing against the orange glow of the fire. "You never took initiative to better yourself or read the books I gave you."

"You read them and told me what to do afterwards. There was hardly any use for me to read when you'd just regurgitate it back to me in a day's time," he complained. Looking to the other tom, the tux silently urged him to jump in and say something- anything!

"Well, I hope you're not planning on staying here with the kits and us," she sighed condescendingly, retuning to her baby book with a rather snobbish huff. "Because there simply isn't enough room, and having two fathers may not be the... healthiest situation for them, at any rate."

"Demeter, that's enough!" Munkustrap snapped, folding the journal, his tail twitching irritably at his ankles.

Mistoffelees struggled to his feet, grabbing onto the ledge of the mantle for support, straightening himself before speaking. "Yes, Demeter, that is quite enough of that. At least, for me anyway."

Excusing himself brusquely from the others' company, he waddled towards the hallway that led to their respected rooms. As he passed by the older tom, Munkustrap grabbed his wrist lightly. "Mistoffelees..."

"Goodnight, Munkustrap. Demeter," he nodded, pulled himself free of the other's hold, and marched himself to his room with as much dignity he could afford.

The tabby looked to his mate somberly, glaring down her fake attempts at ignorance as she busied herself with the 'Quick Tips' section of her chapter. She eventually turned from her page to give him a rather innocent, questioning look.

"Just because you don't like that he's mothering our kits, it doesn't mean you have to act so insensitive," he stated in deadpan, his expression tightly neutral and voice cold. "He's doing us a huge favour here."

Demeter gracefully crossed her legs, leaning back into the chair and calmly replied, "He's our surrogate, Munkustrap, he has a role of carrying our kits to term; not fathering and raising them."

Oo oO

O

Oo oO

Rolling over awkwardly, Mistoffelees tried to settle himself for sleep. Unfortunately for him, the little critters he was carrying had other plans. Aside from the discomfort, there was a nagging feeling at the back of his mind. He kicked off the blankets restlessly and rolled himself off the bed.

It took a couple rounds of the room before he finally stopped at the window. Perhaps, jumping down would be a bit more of a challenge than it was before.

The tux silently closed the door behind him as he crept out into the hallway. He could hear the deep, soft breathing of his two denmates in their shared room. He continued into the living area, through the kitchen, and out the side door that led to a dimly lit path to the main clearing.

Once he was out of the den, it was just a matter of finding his way to Victoria's den without being seen by Alonzo or whoever was patrolling tonight.

It was a bit harder this time because not only was he walking for multiples, making him highly unstealthy, but Admetus was sitting alert on the tyre. This meant that he'd have to either wait for him to leave, or take the back door. Or better yet... he could live up to his reputation and just magic his way there.

Admitedly, the magic idea was probably not the best choice of the three; it was a lot harder now that he had so much of him to teleport, plus he was getting tired from standing and walking. It took quite a bit out of him, but he found himself standing in the dark, cool entrance to his sister's den.

Something stopped him. He wasn't sure what it was, but he was sure he picked up something. His ears twitched while he sniffed the air curiously. This time he heard it; someone was in their den; someone who wasn't Victoria. Crouching low, he began to close in on the culprit, fangs bared and claws extended.

The closer he got to the den, the louder and more frequent the sounds became. He took a deep breath once he reached the dividing curtain, reaching up to yank back the thin sheet. Instead, he ended up peeking through it first. He wasn't really prepared for what he saw.

"Victoria?" the tux squeaked, revealing his hiding place.

Loud gasps followed by indistinct rustling and movement came from the corner of the room. "Mistoffelees?" she shrieked in response.

The tuxed tom stalked over to a nearby drawer of odds-and-ends and pulled out a flashlight, flicking it on the two cats now sitting guiltily on the bed. He instantly recognized the white and copper tom to be Plato, Victoria's beau.

"Victoria!" Mistofelees choked, unsure whether or not to be worried about Plato being in their den. It then hit him that they were courting and not yet mated. A wash of anger overcame him; she was disgracing their family! Soiling their mother's name for her own lust. At least he was doing it for the sake of his tribe and under consent of Deuteronomy and, ultimately, the Everlastng Cat. "What in Bast's name are you doing with him?" he raged.

Plato immediately launched himself from the nest to approach Mistoffelees with the intent of quieting him. "Mistoffelees, calm down! I can explai-" he was cut short when a rather hard pillow was whipped at his face, knocking him back a couple steps.

"Get out of my den!" demanded Mistoffelees, reaching for another nearby object; this time he managed to grab a hold of what looked to be a rather hefty desk lamp. Worried that the tux wasn't in the proper frame of mind, Plato nervously looked to Victoria. Mistoffelees jerked, showing that he wasn't kidding and wouldn't hesitate to give him a rather mean bump on the head. "I said get out!" he screamed.

Hesitating, the copper tom finally found the nerve to cautiously maneuver himself around the tux on his way to the door, stopping to cast his lover a meek smile. "See ya around, Vic," he managed before a low growl prompted his departure.

Victoria sighed irritably, a heavy blush on her face. "Misto, I was just-"

"You were going to sleep with him!" he pointed out venomously, fangs bared but lamp set carefully back on the table. "You went behind my and Asparagus' backs and decided to disgrace our family to cavort out of mate-hood..."

Now it was Victoria's turn to get angry; jaw set and fists clenched, she retorted, "Says the tom who's giving birth to a mated tom's kits!" That had the desired effect for it seemed to throw the raging tom off and leave him baffled.

Gently, he laid a shaky hand on the silent kittens: the ever present evidence of his exchange with Munkustrap. "That's different..." he mumbled quietly. "You have a choice in whether or not you sleep with Plato: I didn't. But you don't have a choice on getting pregnant."

"Misto... I'm not stupid. We were going to play it safe-"

The black tom slammed a fist on the wooden table at his side, trying to suppress a snarl of anger. "Damn it, Victoria! This isn't about playing it safe! This is about..." a sharp knock resounded at the den door.

"Victoria? What's going on in there?" It was Alonzo.

Mistoffelees' eyes widened in shock, his hand zipping up to clamp over his mouth. The thought that the white and black tom had heard his unbecoming outburst worried him almost as much as the prospect of how Munkustrap would react to him leaving the den; he had an image to protect, after all.

Victoria swallowed hard, gulping back a swell of emotion. "I'm fine, Alonzo, really."

The sounds of his approach only continued. The tux would have hidden himself so as to not get caught, but he was probably the reason Alonzo was there in the first place; it would be silly of him to try.

"Are you- Ow!- sure? I heard yelling." he continued to bump around in the disorientating tunnel for a few moments before fumbling past the curtain into the main den area.

Upon entering the dimly lit den, his inquiring and cautious gaze almost immediately locked-in on Mistoffelees, hand lightly covering his mouth and looking rather embarrassed. "Oh, hey," Alonzo greeted guardedly.

"Yes, hi, Alonzo," the tux stammered, trying to regain his composure. "We were just talking..."

"Does Munkustrap know you're out here so late?" he asked, genuinely uncertain on how to approach the pregnant tom.

"Mhmm," he nodded in response. "And everything's fine. Now please, we'd like some privacy to settle our affairs and head to bed."

Casting a glance at the pure white queen, Alonzo could easily tell she was on the verge of tears. Despite her best intentions, she looked very bothered and not in anyway 'alright'.

"I think it would be best if you returned to your and Munkustrap's den, now," he suggested, stepping aside to allow Mistoffelees room to walk out of the den.

Seeing as there was no way out of his predicament, the tux ran a clammy hand through his headfur before sighing resignedly.

Leaving Victoria behind, he led the way out of the den into the clearing. Much to his dismay he had several Jellicles, as well as Munkustrap and Demeter, greet him just outside the pipe. A warming, humming sensation that seemed to excite the kittens under his swollen abdomen told him that Old Deuteronomy wasn't too far away.

"What are you doing out here on your own?" Demeter hissed the minute she laid eyes on her surrogate. Munkustrap seemed relatively calm, if not a bit relieved to see his kittens safe in their mother's womb.

Although he wouldn't put it past Demeter for being worried, the tone of her voice suggested that she might have actually worried about him and his whereabouts. He tried his best to contain the immeasurable rage that flared up, and resorted to staring down at her feet.

"Look at me!" she demanded forcefully, making a spectacle of him in front of his friends. Reluctantly, he glanced up at her, giving a rather obvious look of irritation and dislike. "You could have been killed! What would have become of you if you fell? Or if there was something not right with the kits and you couldn't get home!"

"Watch it, Demeter!" Mistoffelees snapped darkly. "You might come off looking as though you actually care."

Within moments, her face turned a rather unflattering shade of crimson. "Check yourself, Mistoffelees," Munkustrap growled beside her, holding her arm in case the tux happened to hit a bad nerve.

"It seems as though our companion is feeling rather ungrateful." The warming sensation engulfed the little tom, dissipating his wrath to a low simmer. Deuteronomy had finally graced their presence. "Perhaps he would prefer less accommodating arrangements?"

He emerged slowly, but with the grandeur of a heroic legend, from the dark shadows beside the pipe. His expression was stone-cold, though the ever-present sense of comfort and love remained remarkably unaffected.

Munkustrap saw the threat Mistoffelees failed to recognize in the aged tom. Deuteronomy had little patience for insubordination and was considering detaining the tux.

"Father, it's fine," Munkustrap spoke up, knowing that there was no way in Heavyside that the young tom would be able to talk himself out of this predicament. Especially not with his current attitude. "There was a misunderstanding; I gave Mistoffelees permission to go spend the night with his sister."

Deuteronomy seemed to be slightly swayed by his son's intervention, his features softening. "That doesn't explain his bitter and rather rash behaviour. Towards you and your mate, nonetheless."

The tabby nodded in understanding. "I agree, and we will discuss it later, but it's a common side effect of the pregnancy. Mistoffelees has been on edge for a while now, it's common place so we don't pay him much mind."

Mistoffelees was severely unimpressed. His pregnancy had virtually nothing to do with his temperament! He wasn't suffering from mood swings, but from sex-craved sisters and unappreciative adoptive mothers. Still, there was obviously a reason the tabby would speak for him. Perhaps it would be best if he kept his mouth shut, he was getting a headache anyway.

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Oo oO

The walk home had been more or less awkward for the three cats. Luckily for him, Demeter had made no move to either speak or even look at him. This should have worried him, but he was far too tired and worn out to bother. At his side, Munkustrap walked rigidly, his spine uncomfortably straight and gaze dark with a hidden anger that would most likely make itself known once they reached their den.

"Mistoffelees," the tabby began, closing the door behind them. "What were you thinking-?"

"I'm sick of being treated like a kit!" the tux burst, fetching himself a glass from the cupboard to get a drink of water. "For Cat's sake, I'm a grown tom now, I'd like for at least one of you to acknowledge the fact that I can take care of myself!..."

Demeter scoffed behind the counter near him, resting her chin in her open palm. If she had been put-off or embarrassed earlier, she was sure making up for it now with her cool, blasé expression."Of course we acknowledge that you're a tom. Don't be silly-"

Instead of filling the glass with water from the tap in front of him, Mistoffelees looked down into the cup thoughtfully for a moment. The silence was so empty, the golden queen wondered if he had even heard her speak. In a flash, his face grew dangerously fierce and the light fur on his face began to turn pinkish. "I'm not being silly! I'm here trying to carry these kits for you and you couldn't care less about-"

"Mistoffelees, that's ridiculous!" came Munkustrap's steady, reasoning voice from the jamb of the wall by the door. If his tone had been even the slightest bit patronizing or reflected his mate's burning distaste, it would have made him even angrier. "If we didn't care, how come you're here with us; how come we're going out of our way to make sure you get the proper attention-" Mistoffelees felt a surge of boldness and had to suppress the nagging urge to throw the glass in his hand against the wall the tabby now leaned on tiredly. Instead, he let out a sharp, frustrated snarl.

"That's not for me! You're just looking after your kittens: I just happen to get in the way!"

He swore he saw Demeter smirk out of the corner of his eye."We take care of you because we're grateful-"

"The least you can do is pretend that you're not just using me!" the red-faced tux screamed. Although he would never admit it; Mistoffelees was hurt. Hot, despondent tears pricked the back of his eyes. "I understand that's why I'm here to begin with, but I don't have to be reminded everyday that I'm putting my life on the line for cats who don't care whether or not I die!" The reality that he may in fact die for these cats, and the kittens that were so unfairly forced upon him, finally hit him. Hard. It was quite a disturbing epiphany because, come down to it, it was a rather likely that he wouldn't live past the next three or four months.

Silence passed between the three. Decidedly not thirsty anymore, the tux set down his glass on the counter beside him to lean his elbows on the marble tops. It seemed to help him rally his emotions and keep them from making an unwelcomed show for the others to judge and scoff at. He figured that he stared dumbly into the sink for a good six minutes before his trance-like peace was disturbed.

Munkustrap, with a low, almost wavering sigh, pushed himself from his position on the wall to step into the glow of the stove-light. "Mistoffelees... We do care about you..."

"Save it." With a huff, and a bit of effort, the tuxed tom managed to work himself off his elbows and stood straight. Neither of the other two made any move to help him up or stop him from leaving; it would just make things worse with the already displeased tom. The slamming of the tux's door should have signaled the release of tension in the room, but Munkustrap couldn't help thinking about what the small tom had said.

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Mistoffelees was left to simmer in his rage for a good while. He couldn't believe how incredibly horrible he was feeling. He'd worked himself up to such a state that he was beginning to feel sick to his stomach and crampy. Sitting on his bed, he gently soothed the tumbling and upset kittens, letting out a harsh breath when one of their kicks erupted into a sharp pain in his lower abdomen.

A soft knock on the door distracted him from his discomfort. He wasn't in the mood for company, but it seemed that his visitor didn't need much invitation for he came in anyway.

Munkustrap stared at his moonlit figure solemnly as he crept towards the bed. He stood in front of him silently, shifting awkwardly until the younger tom shrugged dismissively. Seeing this as more of an invitation than resistance, he eased himself onto the bed beside him.

Gathering his nerve, he swallowed hard before opening his mouth to speak."You know we really are grateful for what you're doing, Demeter and I." Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the rolling skin beneath the dark fur. Unsure how the bothered tom would react, he slowly reached for the busy cat. Again, not receiving any indication otherwise, he pressed the bumps and kicks with light, shaky fingers.

When he spoke, his voice seemed to melt to a scared, weak shell of a tom. "I just hurts that we can't make our own kits, and I think that puts a lot of pressure on Demeter especially."

A few moments of inactivity left him slightly deflated, not even his own kittens wanted to be near him. The look on his face made Mistoffelees feel all the more guilty; almost as if he was making the kits insubordinate; as if he was making them hate their father.

Sliding his own hand up the other side of the black mound, he willed the skin beneath Munkustrap's expectant fingers to pop and quiver. The genuine smile he'd evoked in the bigger tom sparked a small happiness inside of him, one that you'd feel when watching a kit opening a gift on Christmas morning. "If it makes you feel any better: Demeter may mother them, but they'll always know who their real mother is... I'll never deny you your kits, you have as much a right to be with them as I do."

As much as he hated to admit it, those words had actually made him feel a bit better. The kits were really growing on him, he couldn't help but feel severely disappointed- and a bit saddened- when the realization that they weren't entitled to him reared its ugly face. Although he wanted to voice his appreciation, he couldn't trust himself to keep from crying erupting in hysterical laughter, for lack of a better reaction. He settled with gently resting his head on the tabby's shoulder.

In the quiet of their tender moment, a thought occurred to Mistoffelees. "...My sister..." he began, forcing another pseudo-kick from the sleeping kit. "You denied her... why?"

Munkustrap shrugged, too absorbed in his first actual contact with his children."... I guess I just felt that she was too young. She seemed to have her whole life ahead of her; she was courting a wonderful tom who would care for their kits loyally, she seemed so naïve and vulnerable. I knew I wouldn't be able to bring myself to do this to her."

"And it never occurred to you that I had a life ahead of me either?" Munkustrap tensed at that. Retracting his touch from the belly, his body went tense with anxiety and grew rigid. "Munkustrap... How old am I?" No response. Mistoffelees saw his weakness and his need to strike grew irresistible; his need to hurt someone too strong a craving to deny this opportunity. "Victoria and I are both 19: the two of three kits to survive our mother's only litter."

If the growing look of shock on the tabby's face as he looked to his kittens' caregiver wasn't enough to satiate his hunger, then the choked sounds squeaking high in his throat made up for it. "I...I'm sorry... I'm so sorry!"

He jumped up from his place on the bed, looking over the small body with new eyes. He could have sworn he was older- Much older! He was so grown up in the light of the tribe, and his sister was so naïve! "... I didn't mean for..." A lump in his throat stopped him short.

The blank expression the tux wore didn't help ease his conscience any. Not finding any other way to react, he spun on his heel to fumble out of the room, embarrassed, tail lashing out behind him nervously.


	7. BIG IMPORTANTO CHAPTER

**WHOAAAA! It's been a while since I've updated, hasn't it? ;P Well here I am with a great, action-packed, blood thrilling adventure! ~Yaaaaaaay~**

**Is excited to hear what you guys think!**

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><p>"Oh! Tugger!" Munkustrap hopped from his spot on the sunny stage tyre to approach the passing Coon, followed by his usual fanclub members. "I need to ask you a favour."<p>

Glancing down at his queen-kit entourage, a rather thoughtful look crossed his golden features. "...What is it? I'm pretty busy."

"I was just wondering if you could go wake Mistoffelees. I haven't seen him all morning; I'm worried he may not be well."

Tugger eyed him carefully. Worrying about Mistoffelees wasn't exactly in his jurisdiction; that was Demeter's, though it seemed that she was rather ignorant to the tux's whereabouts since she was sitting in on a rather lively conversation with Jellylorum and Bombalurina.

Turning back to the silver tabby, the expectant look coupled with his initial worry was enough to persuade him. "Ya, sure. I'll drag his ass out of bed and deliver him right to the tyre," he smiled.

Despite his dislike for such crude language in front of the kittens, Munkustrap smiled kindly. "Thanks, Tug."

"Yeah, no prob," the Coon waved over his shoulder as he sauntered off towards his brother's den, kittens in tow. Munkustrap idly wondered if his kits would find such amazement in the flirt.

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"Yooooo!" Tugger hollered as he barged into the tux's room. "Traps wants to see your darling, baby-momma face outside..." He looked to the bed and found it was unexpectedly empty.

_He must have known I was coming_, the maned tom smirked, accepting this undeclared challenge. Knowing exactly what would attract his friend's attention, he swaggered over to the magician's array of potions and spellbooks. "I guess I'll just have to see what these here potions do until Mistoffelees stops acting like a kit and comes out of his hiding spot!"

When he got no reply, his expression changed to one slightly less jovial and playful. "Seriously, though," he warned. "You need to come out now. Munkustrap's starting to freak out."

Stopping to sniff the room, he could pick up the tux tom's scent easily enough. The whole room had been sealed shut; the curtains blocking out the sunlight, the walls draped with dark, satin blankets, and all the doors closed and covered by more sheets. He figured the lingering scent from the fabrics kept the mysterious cat's essence in the room at all times; that would explain why the smell wasn't exactly fresh. He became worried when he found the entire den to be dead silent.

"He's not there," he reported to Munkustrap. "Maybe he's with Victoria? Or maybe he's hiding out somewhere..."

His older brother blinked down at him from the stage. "Victoria's over there with Plato," he motioned to the gutted stove where the couple sat, chatting quietly. "And I doubt he'd be hiding... Where could he possibly hide in his state?"

Tugger shrugged confusedly. Looking back to the three queens, his eye landed on his sister-in-law's giggling form. "Hey, Deme!" he called, nodding in her direction.

Excusing herself from the others, she turned to the Coon irritably. "Yes?"

"Where's Mistoffelees, do you know?" Munkustrap prompted from the tyre.

Sighing, she pondered the question for a moment before simply replying, "He's still asleep, I believe."

"Well that's not really helpful..." Tugger turned back to find the silver tabby gone. Craning his neck, he spotted the flash of stripes racing back to his den. Giving one last parting glance to Demeter, who'd resumed her discussion, he decided not to get her too involved and followed after his brother.

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"Mistoffelees!" Munkustrap bellowed as he stalked up the hallway to his bedroom. "What in Cat's name are you doing!"

Entering the tux's room, he was met with the same sight Tugger had walked in on earlier. "See? I told you he wasn't here!" Tugger complained behind him.

Sniffing the air, he managed to ignore the stale scent and catch slight traces of Mistoffelees' presence. "I never doubted you," he stated before his attention was pulled towards the covered bathroom door. "You did check the bathroom?"

"I didn't realize there was one in here..."

Munkustrap strode to the door, peeling back the earth coloured cloth to try the knob but found it locked. "Mistoffelees?" he beckoned. "Are you in there? Open the door, please."

There wasn't an actual verbal response to the striped tom, but the soft sounds of pained whimpering and the sloshing of water snapped his resolve and sent him charging into the door.

"Stay away from the door!" he demanded, ramming his shoulder into the door. The wood eventually gave out under his force and the door swung open with a loud crack.

Inside the bathroom, he was met with a bloody mess leading from the toilet to the bathtub where the tux laid weakly, face glued to the edge of the tub and his arm holding onto the side with white knuckles. His expression was that of pure agony as he shifted painfully in the bloody water sloshing in the tub.

"Everlasting!" the tabby gasped, sizing up the situation quickly and crossing the wet linoleum to meet the young tom. "Tugger, go fetch Jenny, now!" A glance over his shoulder showed the tall, golden tom staring in shock at the broken door, eyes wide as he took in the dangerous amount of blood at the other tom's feet. "Go!" Munkustrap screamed at him, breaking through his trance and prompting him to dart from the room without another word.

Turning back to the tux, he was met with heavy-lidded, light blue irises staring back. "I'm alright, Munk," he croaked hoarsely, placing a consoling hand on his arm. "Let me get through this, it's fine..." he trailed off tightly when another wave of cramps and exploding pains erupted in his lower abdomen.

"No. You're not." Keeping the black tom from slipping under the surface of blood and water, the silver tabby reached down and wrapped his arms around the tiny frame in a tight hold. "...We have to get you out of here," he whispered under his breath.

"No!" Mistoffelees squeaked through the debilitating pain. "The water helps- Ahh!"

The tux's body pitched violently, nearly taking the other tom into the tub with him as his hold tightened to keep him from drowning himself in his own fluids. Water sloshed and spilled over the edge onto the floor, soaking his saviour in the process.

"Alright, come on!" On the count of three, the tabby managed to pull the tux's dead weight into a standing position in the tub. Trying his hardest not to slip in the blood on the floor, he somehow managed to lead them into the other room through another spell that had the gasping tom screaming and desperately clutching to his supporting arm.

Fixing the blankets on his bed quickly, he struggled to lay the bloodied tom on the bed. Standing by his head, he watched as the black and white tom reached for a green fabric by his pillow and glued it to his nose before rolling over onto his side to whimper loudly and soothingly rub his stomach.

Munkustrap opened his mouth to ask some sort of question, but was cut off by an agonized scream, followed by a wave of shuddering that rocked the tiny body, ending with a rush of discharge onto the blankets beneath him.

"What's happening?" one of them screamed in the panic. It was really hard for either of them to decipher exactly what happened in the next few minutes, with the barging-in of Jenny and Jelly, Demeter's frantic screaming for an explanation, and the rushed positioning of Mistoffelees on the soaked blankets.

At one point, the couple found themselves being led out of the room by an order-firing Jennyanydots. The last memory he had of the room was Mistoffelees' wide eyes and the fear that coursed through them as Jellylorum gently propped him up with pillows and blankets from the bed and surrounding floor.

It was another hour of painful cries, agonized screams, and low murmurs before any news came out of the room. During that time, Tugger had stopped by to offer his support by waiting in the living room with them, thankfully deciding to keep his mouth shut for the time being.

It was silent for a good five minutes before Jelly emerged from the room, arms drenched with blood and fur in a frazzled mess. "Demeter, dear, do you have any extra blankets and towels?"

Grateful for something to do, the golden queen bolted from her place in front of the fire to the linen closet in the back hallway. Munkustrap took this opportunity to address the aged queen.

"Is Mistoffelees alright? How are the kits? Will they be okay? When can I see? Why is it so quiet in there?..." He was shushed when the sandy queen placed a quieting hand on his already messy arm.

"The emergency has passed for now. We just want a few more minutes to clean them off and make sure everything's safe before we say anything for sure."

A look passed between the two brothers before Tugger spoke up from behind the shorter tabby. "..._Them_?" His question went unanswered when her attention was drawn by Demeter's babbling and flustered ramblings. She thanked her quietly before slipping back into the room.

Fifteen more minutes of unbearable waiting later, Jennyanydots emerged somberly, bundle of blankets cradled in her arms. "I'm afraid we lost one of the kittens," she reported regretfully, hugging her charge close. "An underdeveloped tom-kit. He didn't have a prayer."

Demeter froze, face contorted into one of sheer horror and despair; the tom-kit they'd been waiting for- the whole reason they underwent this whole ordeal- was now lying tiny in the motherly queen's arms. Munkustrap didn't look all that much different than his mate, though he seemed to fall into a trance-like state for a few moments until the kitten was brought around to them.

He vaguely heard the queen murmur, "But the rest are fine if not a bit stressed. We can continue with the pregnancy, though it'll be risky from here on out..."

Looking down at his son, the realization that these kittens were here and real finally dawned on him. The kit was obviously neglected and severely underweight. Although it wasn't fully developed, he looked very much like a kitten. His fur was even starting to show colourings and patterns. He was a perfect replica of the dispirited tabby. It broke his heart to meet the child he would never be able to love or raise as his own. He would never be able to hold proudly and feel the warm love as he purred in his arms.

"...How's Mistoffelees?" Tugger's small voice asked beside him.

"He's getting along, but he's very weak and I'm worried."

Munkustrap looked up from his deceased son to tune in to the tabby queen, petrified to hear any more news on his kits and their mother.

"He had a very hard time passing this one, here. I'm afraid that if he can't pass underdeveloped young, then he won't stand a chance of delivering kittens carried to term."

The words cut deep like a knife. If Mistoffelees didn't survive, that meant that not only would the other kittens die off, but that a young life would have been needlessly taken away. And it would all be his fault.

Blinking back tears, Munkustrap swallowed hard, handing off the weightless creature in his hands to the Coon next to him. "I'd like to see him, please."

"Yes, of course," Jenny nodded, motioning him to follow her into the room after her. Demeter began to follow as well, but was stopped when Jenny shot her a warning glance.

The room wasn't all that much different than when he last left it, except this time the lights were turned on, the floor was littered with soiled towels from the tux's personal linen cabinet, and blood lined most of the fabrics on the bed.

Mistoffelees lay, groaning quietly, on the bed. Jellylorum was at his side and was wiping him down with a wet cloth, wiping the blood, sweat, and grime from his dark fur. The look of lethargy on his face was both beautiful for it marked the hard work of delivering new life, and frightening when Jenny's comment came into play.

Looking at the swollen stomach, he sighed deeply at the remaining kits still safe inside. Pressing his hand carefully to the bump, he could feel the exhausted tom flinch slightly before the kittens beneath started to squirm and push against his hand. He smiled sadly, wondering if they too would succumb to their brother's fate.

"Hey," the tabby greeted quietly, kneeling down to the young tom's level. "How are you doing?"

Slowly, his heavy lids slid back to reveal the red-rimmed eyes beneath. "Not so well, I guess," came the whispered reply. "That was a lot harder than I expected."

"Well, it was never supposed to be easy," he smirked, reaching up to grab the tux's hand and clasp it in his own. "We lost one... it was a tom-"

"I know," Mistoffelees croaked, inhaling deeply to test out the pain in his body. This was rewarded with a pang of hot pain from his hips and stomach, making him shudder hollowly and stuttering his breath. "But it's alright... You just need to have faith in me?"

The comment threw the silver tom off. He wasn't sure whether it was directed as a question or not. He found himself nodding vacantly and unknowingly massaging his hand in the fidgeting of his frying nerves. "...Alright."

The next few weeks had everyone on edge; Jenny insisted on visiting at least twice a day to check on Mistoffelees and the kits, Demeter demanded he never leave the safety of his bed or the couch, and precautions were taken so that the tux was never left alone.

In the chaos and stress around the family, another peculiar change came about: Munkustrap took a completely new attitude with the young tom. He seemed to warm up and take a liking to Mistoffelees. The tux didn't mind all that much since it made a bit of a buffer between him and Demeter, who thoroughly believed that the miscarriage was a result of sabotage. He would often be the one to accompany him on his visits to the couch.

He found that he and the tabby had quite a bit in common, and got along quite well when they weren't struggling for power and pride. Unfortunately he couldn't say the same about the Protector and his mate for their relationship seemed to crack under the pressure. They would be constantly bickering about anything and everything. Demeter even left the den a few times to spend the night at Bombalurina's.

Another shift took place among them as well; since holding his passed son, Mistoffelees seemed to take a more serious, mature air about him: one that wasn't just for reputation or show. His resistance to Demeter's cooking almost disappeared, and he actually found himself taking an interest to the baby books.

One night, while they were talking on the couch, Mistoffelees rubbed his belly deliberately before asking, "What day is it, today?"

"Thursday."

He nodded slowly. Pulling in his knees, he worked himself into a sitting position against the armrest of the blanket-littered couch. "How would you like to go to Lamaze with me tomorrow?" he asked carefully, not sure if it was the best idea in his condition- though he was feeling much better if not weakened. Since the scare a few weeks earlier, he'd realized how unprepared he was and figured that he should give the class another try.

The tabby considered this for a moment. Surely it would be good for him to get out of the house and get something productive done. After a few moments he nodded agreeably. "Sure, I'll take you. What time does the class start?"

The next afternoon, Munkustrap hailed them a cab and they made their way to the Prenatal Health building where Mistoffelees' previous Lamaze classes were held. It took a lengthy apology on the tux's part and a sworn promise from Munkustrap to keep him in-check before he was re-accepted into the group.

The class was called to order and Mistoffelees found himself biting back the urge to laugh. The regular breathing practices they'd done before, as well as a few new techniques, opened the class with a warm-up.

Completely out of his element, Munkustrap awkwardly sat on the mat between the tux and a rather... affectionate couple.

The breathing was awkward to follow along with, and he felt incredibly foolish just being there, but he managed to get over his anxieties when he saw the other fathers, as well as Mistoffelees, making a token effort to participate. He then began to feel awkward since their pair was the only one sitting on separate mats and almost refused to touch.

After the breathing had been repeated and explained for the recently absent tux, with the kind encouragement of the expecting queens and a few toms, they moved on to practicing and introducing the Lamaze poses.

If either of them felt awkward with the distance between them earlier, it surely wasn't much of a problem now. Most of the positions required a steady, supportive set of hands to mediate and maneuver the awkwardness of the bulky bellies and sore muscles. The tabby wondered if they were developed specifically for two people to keep flustering partners out of the way or simply busy to keep them from passing out.

One rather simple position that Mistoffelees found especially helpful was a supported squat where he would weightlessly stand-squat while Munkustrap kept him up by holding him up from his underarms. It released a lot of tension and felt especially nice to be able to stretch out his compressed spine.

During a short break, the squirrelly instructor helped lower an achy and tired Mistoffelees into a side-lying position on one of the mats around the circle to rest. She calmly showed the eager tabby how to support the tux's leg while he lay so that the stance could be used during the birth.

As more and more moves were demonstrated and tried out, Munkustrap surprisingly found that his young partner began to resist his guiding hands less and less. Rather, the tux began to with him and even welcomed the help rather than flinching awkwardly and blushing every time he grazed a sensitive area or found himself in a vulnerable or shameless position.

Upon discovering that the quiet tom was the kittens' father, he found himself being encouraged to massage the tom and rub the black furred belly. It was rather hard to grasp at the beginning since some parts required less pressure than normal, which was often signaled by pained hisses and sharp protests from his patient, but he was soon able to press his hands over the sore skin in a way that the tux tom found rather enjoyable.

Munkustrap couldn't help but smile when the black tom began to purr softly at the firm fingers pushing into the tender, overworked muscle of his lower back while he rested on a birthing ball. The light snoring that soon followed signaled the end of Mistoffelees' class for the day, luckily only seven minutes before the end of the group session.

"That was a rather productive class," the chestnut-coloured queen grinned as she placed a congratulatory hand on Munkustrap's shoulder. "You should come with him Tuesday, you seem to have a sobering effect on him; make him more focused. Cat knows he'll need it!"

"I'll come, Tuesday," the tabby smiled, nodding politely at the warm invitation. "I actually had fun, you run a very respectable and interactive class." However bold Tugger was in his clever charms, Munkustrap matched it with a more subtle, gentleman approach that seemed to make the targets of his attention flush and grin bashfully. This may not always get him unlimited access to a queen's bed, but it surely had its benefits that worked out for him just as well, if not better.

"Well, I'll be looking forward to your visit," she winked playfully, cheeks painted with a light blush. She turned to leave but quickly remembered something and trampled back ungracefully. "Are you, by any chance, part of the birthing party?"

The blank stare she received only served to answer her question, making her smile falter for only a minute. "His birthing partner? No? You won't be with him when the kittens come?"

"Oh!" Munkustrap gasped, smacking himself lightly. "Well, only if my mate isn't. We're going through a rough patch at home so it's still undecided."

It was the queen's turn to give him an odd look, her confused face eventually cracked into a devilish grin. "Riiight, wants to do everything himself," she giggled. "It's very common for most mothers to overwhelm themselves with the new kits. Just make sure that whoever will be with him during the delivery will come to the class in the next week or so, so they know the positions and techniques and such."

Giving him a parting wave and a cheery 'goodbye', she ran over to the racks of birthing balls and mats to help a struggling queen edge the ball onto the top rack.

Dismissing the chipper cat, Munkustrap turned his attention to his dozing partner. "C'mon, Mistoffelees, let's go home before you get too comfortable."

"I'm already too comfortable," the tom murmured in response, not making any move to get up or wake himself from his comatose state. "Just come back on Tuesday. I'll be here..."

It took hard work, and bribes with salty snacks, but the silver tom was finally able to convince the tux to get up and leave with him. On the way home, he traded a back massage for the young cat's silence; surely Demeter would give him an earful if she found out about the restricted foods he'd used to bribe him with.


	8. Chapter 8

**Well hey there! Didn't notice you ;)**

**Holy VanHalen you guys have been waiting here for a long time! To be honest, I hadn't realized how much support this fic was getting until I looked it over about two hours ago! So now it's 3am and I've finally got this chapter ready.**

** Good news: I'm definitely finishing this story. Hell, It's my top priority now. This baby will be written faster than any of you can guess my middle name!**

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><p>It was merely two weeks away from the expected due date and things were getting pretty tense. Demeter and Munkustrap had patched things up and were more or less on even ground.<p>

Mistoffelees, however, found no solace in the reunion or the lightened load on his body. If anything, he was even more uncomfortable and miserable. Finding the extra space useful, the remaining kits just grew bigger, faster. Much of his days were spent in his bed moaning and writhing in pain.

Few of Jenny's remedies helped alleviate the pain; those that did help quickly dissipated and his body grew resistance. Despite his best efforts, Munkustrap's massages and deliveries of pork rhines and thick pillows could only offer so much comfort.

Victoria visited almost everyday, trying her best to ease her brother's plight by taking his mind off the pain with mindless chit-chat, but her efforts were in vain.

One evening while Munkustrap and Demeter were in bed, Mistoffelees came to the door, his knocking loud and hurried. Assuming that the tux was up in a bout of restlessness, they decided to let the tom think they were asleep and wait until he moved on. The strained call of the tabby's name and even more urgent knocking eventually dragged him out of bed to answer the door with a tired and slightly irritated huff.

Blinking in the light pooling from the hallway, he sighed, "What is it, Misto?-"

"I don't feel well, Munk," the tux groaned, gritting his teeth as he tried to bite back a hiss, his fangs bared.

Closing the door behind him, he swiftly stepped in closer so that Demeter wouldn't overhear in case of a misunderstanding. "What's wrong?" he whispered harshly, pressing an inquiring hand to the very large bump between them.

"Okay..." he began, catching his breath to explain the situation in full. "Remember how the instructor said that when the kits come, there's this-" he was cut short when a low groan had him doubling over, gripping the other's arm for support.

"Yes? Go on!" the tabby urged, hoping to somehow focus the young tom.

He grimaced sharply before straightening up a bit. "-There's nothing there! But... the cramps..."

"Contractions?" The tux nodded weakly, stray tears slipping down his cheeks. Munkustrap's eyes widened in shock: he was going to be a father? Tonight?

Adrenalin kicking in, he reached back and nearly swung the door off its hinges. "Demeter, we have to go!"

Alarmed by the urgency and tone of her mate's voice, she snapped up to look at the two toms in her doorway; Mistoffelees cringing and curling into himself behind Munkustrap's agitated form.

Realization kicked in almost instantly. "We... we have to go! Yes! I'll get the bag, go ahead to Jenny's!" Nearly landing flat on her face, she untangled herself from the blankets and lunged for the closet.

Gripping the black tom's elbow, he began to lead the hissing tom to the Gumbie cat's den. Mistoffelees stopped suddenly.

"I need to get something from my room," he gasped, turning back towards his door as they shuffled past the kitchen.

Munkustrap looked from him to the hallway, then to the rippling and rolling bump of the tux's stomach. Indecision instantly plagued him. He really didn't want to waste time backtracking, especially since his kittens could be in distress and Mistoffelees could be wasting precious energy used for delivery. Looking at the groaning tom, he saw the fear and pain. "What do you need?" he sighed hurriedly. "I'll run and get it. What do you need?"

"My shawl. The green one."

Immediately recognizing the description, he bolted from the young tom's side to the dreary and dark room. Stumbling over to the bed, it took less than a minute to find the still warm and soft fabric sitting on his pillow.

Sprinting back to the tuxed tom, he found the black cat trudging slowly down the dark, dirty path past the door. Demeter screamed in frustration from the room behind him, complaining about how she couldn't find the diapers and wipes in the bag they've prepared.

It took moments before he caught up to the tux and resumed helping him towards the clearing.

When the gold queen had met up with them, Mistoffelees was bent over in pain and barely trudging along, too tired and sore to go on any further. "Let's just go back and get Jenny to come over, Munkustrap. It would be a lot faster," she noted from Mistoffelees' other side as he was bent over in another set of contractions.

"It's too risky; Jenny needs her equipment, and Cat knows we're not prepared to host a complicated birth." The tuxed tom's knees gave way beneath him, sending Demeter down to her knees and nearly pulling Munkustrap to the ground with them.

"Do something!"

Taking a chance, the tabby brushed his mate from her grip on the whimpering tom's arm, and gathered the awkward cat into his arms before lifting and starting down the trodden road. Squirming and panting, Mistoffelees clung fiercely to the older cat's shoulders for support, burying his head in the silver-furred neck.

"Keep breathing, Mistoffelees," Munkustrap encouraged, grunting in effort as he hoisted the tux in his hold; his back already protesting against his heavy and awkward charge. The only response was the weak nod against his shoulder and a stuttered breath.

Demeter ran ahead to warn the old queen, leaving the two toms to shuffle slowly after her. It took them less than fifteen minutes of leaving the den to get Mistoffelees to Jenny and Skimble's door.

By then, the black tom had all but passed out; drooling and breathing heavy into Munkustrap's ear. Munkustrap swallowed hard and bit back the urge to stop and shake the tux awake. Something had to be wrong. When they rounded the corner to the elder cats' den, he immediately spotted Jennyanydots and Skimbleshanks waiting for them.

"Where's Demeter?" Munkustrap asked as he was led inside and towards the separate infirmary. Upon the tabby queen's orders, he laid the tux down on a rather uncomfortable bed with stiff, white sheets and a pathetically thin and useless pillow.

Flicking on the lights, she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. "I sent her to get Jellylorum; I'll need all the help I can get. Now let's take a look..."

At the change in position, followed by the sudden bright light shone in his face, Mistoffelees quickly came to. His head swimming and spinning as he tried to keep himself conscious. He tried to roll over onto his side, but he was made to lie back down on his back.

His vision soon cleared and he was met with Jenny's sombre face as she loomed over his midsection. The pressure on his stomach was much too harsh when she began to poke, press, and prod.

"What's wrong? Is it time yet?" came his own voice, shaky and uneasily distant.

In the dark shadow of the aged queen's face, he caught the slight furrow in her brow... the flash of worry in her eyes. The pressure on his belly lifted so she could gently flatten the fur on his shoulder. "I... I'm not quite sure yet, dear. But I'm afraid we might have to move them along sooner than we'd hoped."

"Are you sure it's safe?" Munkustrap whispered beside him. Stealing a glance at the tabby, Misroffelees caught the scariest sight: the silver tom watching the wise queen with desperate, pleading eyes. His eyes so wide and glassy Mistoffelees would have sworn they were melting down onto his cheeks. They would have to of been melting since Munkustrap never cried.

Jenny sighed lowly, tracing a light claw through her patient's fur. "No. It's not. But if we're to have any chance of any of them surviving, the sooner the better."

Mistoffelees' heart leaped and tumbled in his chest. _Any chance of survival? _That meant he was more likely than not to die... and his kits? There was no way he'd come this far to have all his hard work go to waste.

Through the steady pounding in his chest, and the hazy buzzing-swimming feeling in his head, the only thing he could think of was his sister. She'd visited after the miscarriage, but since he'd caught her with Plato things haven't been the same. Surely he couldn't risk leaving with her mad at him. "I want my sister," he croaked below them. "Can you get Victoria? Please?"

A couple moments. Sucking back as much air as he could, Munkustrap straightened his spine as much as possible before nodding. "I'll go."

Turning to leave, he caught sight of the long forgotten shawl. It lie limp and lifeless on the floor like an uncharacteristic pile of vomit. Daintily, he picked it up and shook off the excess dirt before gently draping it over the shuddering belly.

Though his good intentions, Mistoffelees found it near impossible to stop crying long enough to manage anything. Victoria, equally teary eyed, sat dutifully by his side, clutching his hand for support and riding out the waves of emotion with him.

"...And... And I know how much Plato means to you," Mistoffelees sniffled, giving her fingers a light squeeze. "So I want you to know that I'm okay if you two want to become mates. He's really a good tom and I shouldn't have threatened to hit him-"

"It's alright, it's kept him in-line," Victoria blurted, wiping away at stray tears every few seconds. "But I'm so sorry I freaked out..." her voice broke, sending her into a fit of sobs.

They held each other in the harsh glow of the hanging lamp above the "surgery" table. Around them, Jelly and Jenny set up the room with anything they'd need to birth such fragile, high-risk kittens. Munkustrap watched from the corner as the two siblings, best friends for as long as he could remember them, reconciled for possibly the last time.

An unshakable lump of guilt lodged painfully in his throat when the 'I'm sorry's and 'Forgive me's turned to 'Don't leave me' and, eventually, 'Goodbye'. He knew the only way he'd feel the least bit better would be for both Misto and the kits to survive. For Victoria's sake (and his sanity) he sure hoped all would end well.

Jenny finally had enough of trying to politely shoo the young queen out and ended up having to pry them apart and wrestle her out of the room. He could still hear her hysterical crying out in the main portion of the den.

"Are you almost ready, love?" Jelly smiled calmly, guiding the heavy, white-furred legs into position on the bed.

"I was... I was wondering..." The three turned to the cowering tabby in the corner. "Can I have a minute?"

The midwives nodded curtly. Shuffling aside to make way; busying themselves with last-minute business of their own: making a nice, hot cup of tea.

Neither of the toms spoke for what seemed like an impossibly long time for tea. While Mistoffelees searched for some sort of comment aside from 'You did this to me, you bloody bastard!' Munkustrap busied himself with one last moment with his unborn kits.

Mistoffelees decided he'd be first to speak. "Munk, I-" he was cut short when a set of firm, slightly dry lips mashed into his. Stunned, the tux lie there frozen in shock for a few moments while Munkustrap worked them into a passionate kiss.

Slowly but surely he gained enough wits about him to bring his hands up to gently cup the other tom's face. He could feel the trails of tears on his cheeks. Cautiously, he melted into him and relished his first, and potentially last, kiss. It wasn't as romantic as he'd imagined, but it was just as real.

Just as the first taste of his kittens' father met him, the tabby pulled away. "I'm so sorry, Mistoffelees. I never wanted to hurt you," came the breathy moan.

With their faces so close together, lips barely touching, the tux almost missed what he had said. He almost forgot why they were soaking each other with tears and not at home lying next to each other in bed. He swore he would cherish one last night with Munkustrap. Maybe then they could fall in love because they wanted to and not because they were about to become parents. But you know what they say about wishful thinking...

"Just be here to greet our kits," Mistoffelees smiled, kissing the silver tom with as much adrenaline-pumping passion. Anchoring his fingers in the silky headfur, he pulled his partner in deeper as he swirled his tongue over the warm, wet heat of foreign flesh. He'd rather remember the Protector as his first blind encounter with love than the tom who ended his life.

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><p><strong>Now that I'm back in the writing biz (great thanks to Delphicoracle-Cat for her support and the writing-enabling teachings of my writer's craft class) Who would be interested in another MunkustrapMisto story? Okay... how about a week-long marathon of smexy slash couple oneshots? I'm only doing business days because I have a life.**

**Maybe the top commenter will get to decide one of the couple I should do :) *hint hint***

**_SORRY FOR THE WAIT, GUYS! DON'T HATE ME!_**


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